


Chalk Dust

by VillaKulla



Series: Chalk Dust [1]
Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-08 14:55:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 78,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1945401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VillaKulla/pseuds/VillaKulla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walter White is starting a new year as J.P Wynne's tough but brilliant high school teacher. Teaching kindergarten on the brand new elementary side is none other than his former student, Jesse Pinkman. Walt's classes are intense but orderly, and Jesse's are fun but scattered. Over the course of the semester they might find that their styles in both teaching and life could balance each other out, but only if they can keep from killing each other first. And does Albuquerque have a new kingpin?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Walter White looked down at the papers covering every inch of the kitchen table. He screwed the cap back on his pen and sighed. There were colour-coordinated folders occupying each of the table’s four corners, one for every grade he’d be teaching this semester. There were binders piled in stacks that measured feet, each filled with lesson plans for the rest of the year. There were long-term overviews as well as plans for individual classes tucked neatly between the dividers, different colours for different months. Surveying this veritable mountain of bookkeeping, he leaned back and stretched, every muscle in his back popping into place. In a week when classes started so much of this planning would have to be reworked. Changing class sizes, shuffling of schedules, bureaucratic demands from the administration…but it was a good start and it was done.

 

“Walt? We will be needing the table eventually.”

 

Walt glanced up at the voice of his wife. Shoot, _ex_ -wife. Old habits. And habits that were made all the more difficult to break by their continued living together.

 

“Uh yeah, I’m all done.” Walt threw down the pen he was still holding onto the table, as though for emphasis.

 

“Well?” Skyler appeared into view. Her face was tired. “Are you planning on leaving it there?”

 

Walt fought down the urge to retort. He could tell just by looking at her that it had been a tougher day at the office. Mentally he snorted to himself. Like accounting for a group of professional adults was somehow more difficult than planning out a year’s worth of classes for individual grades, each with about forty different students, all with varying personalities and abilities. Give me a break.

 

Walter White from a year ago might have voiced these thoughts. That Walter White was newly diagnosed with cancer, angry at the world, and destroying every relationship he touched. This Walter White was firmly in remission, gradually being accepted back into his family, and determined to do right with this second chance he’d been given. There wasn’t much chance at being accepted back into his marriage, but that didn’t mean he had to be, well, a dick to the mother of his children, who was still letting him be a part of raising them.

 

Walt didn’t deserve her the first time around, and he sure didn’t deserve her the second time.

 

“Sure thing, it’s just going out to the car now.” He stood up, knees aching from having been motionless just about all day. Gathering the material off the table he began shuttling it out to the driveway to be put in the car, trying to keep everything together as possible. He’d have a chance to unload it all after tomorrow’s staff orientation.

 

After carefully placing the final stack into the Aztek’s trunk where it wouldn’t slide around, he walked back into the house to see Skyler setting the table.

 

She looked up at him as she grabbed a large bowl of pasta from the counter and smiled slightly. “I figured you wouldn’t want spaghetti sauce getting all over that stuff, unless you want it to be your new way of doing red pen.”

 

Walt’s previous annoyance dissipated quickly from her small attempt at joking. When they were both making the effort this arrangement still had a chance.

 

“Let me, honey,” he said grabbing the bowl from her. “Smells great. JUNIOR,” he bellowed down the hall.

 

Junior – or Flynn, depending on his level of affection towards his father on any given day – came out of his room and made his way towards the table.

 

“Wow, only one call this time. Internet must be pretty boring today,” said Skyler, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Ha…” Junior nudged his chair away from the table and plopped down in it, finishing, “…ha. Very funny, mom.”

 

“Cheer up, son,” said Walt brightly, serving him a generous scoop of pasta. “You still have a weekend. And you’re starting grade nine this year! That’s a good one, everyone likes grade nine. You get to start _chemistry_ in grade nine.”

 

“Wow, nevermind, dad. I can’t wait to go back to school. Summer’s too long. I wish we had school _all_ year.” Junior picked at his food, the very image of reluctant schoolboy depression.

 

Walt and Skyler exchanged an amused glance over the table. No matter what kind of picture their son might give to complete strangers, Junior was the most cut-and-dried typical teenaged boy they could have imagined, sarcasm and all.

 

“It’s not that bad. Besides, you’re with Boetticher aren’t you?” Walt took a bite of his pasta, waggling his eyebrows. “Sure you don’t want to join me with the advanced ones? You still could.”

 

“Um, right,” Junior laughed in disbelief. “Having a parent as a teacher is one thing, but having a parent as _your_ teacher? Yeah no thanks.”

 

Walt shrugged. “Suit yourself. Have fun with the easy science.”

 

“Walt,” Skyler said, a bit reproachfully.

 

Walt rolled his eyes. “Sorry. Have fun with ‘standard’ science,” he said, adding exaggerated air quotes. Both Skyler and Junior smiled a bit. Walt felt cheered and kept up a similar monologue, complaining about colleagues, bemoaning the hypocrisy of the education system, trying to make Skyler and Junior laugh. Maybe not the best example for a teaching father to set for his son who was entering high school, but for a while it felt just like a normal family dinner. Before the cancer, before Walt’s affection became distant and his simmering frustration and anger became very very present.

 

After dinner Skyler stood up to clear the table. She was cut short by Junior getting to his feet saying, “I got it.”

 

Skyler raised her eyebrows. “Thank you honey.” She turned an amazed glance over to Walt.

 

Walt chuckled and pushed back his chair. “Thanks, son.” He headed over to the sofa where he crashed down into the soft cushions, leaning back and closing his eyes.

 

He was so comfortable he didn’t notice Skyler coming over and sitting next to him.

 

“Holly still with Hank and Marie?” he asked, eyes still closed.

 

“Yes,” answered Skyler. A smile tugged at her lips. “Where I’m sure they’re spoiling her rotten but I guess there are worse things. Hank’ll drive her over sometime after nine.” She sighed and leaned back into the cushions, mirroring him. She leaned her neck to look up at him. “Ready for the year?” she asked.

 

“I think so,” he said, opening his eyes. “I mean it’s sure to be crazy with the new elementary school finally opening, but I hear through the grapevine that their principle has things under control.” He laughed a bit. “Never thought I’d see ‘J.P. Wynne Elementary’ happen but there you go.”

 

Skyler nodded and bit her lip. “Well I don’t want you overdoing it. No matter what they have left to organize, it doesn’t affect _you_. You teach high school, you focus on the high school.”

 

Walt smiled drily. “I’ll have to with four classes this year.” But then he shrugged. “It’ll be fine, I’ve taught more than that before.”

 

“You weren’t recovering from _cancer_ before though, Walt,” said Skyler, a little despairingly. “Are you sure I can’t call Carmen and ask – “

 

Walt cut her off. “Honey, it’s okay. She was already really great about making sure my schedule would be decent. I’m not teaching any periods back to back this year, and honestly? That makes all the difference.” He took her hand and squeezed. “I’m better, I promise.”

 

Skyler looked at him, nodded once and smiled. “You really are, Walt. It’s good.”

 

They gazed at each other for a moment longer, in silence. Walt’s diagnosis had been an awful time for them as a family. Walt had retreated and had taken the news as an excuse to live selfishly. He had felt alive, invigorated. The more his body got taken apart, the more his soul felt put back together. But that hadn’t been the case for his family.

 

Skyler had wanted him to open up. She had told him, ‘I can’t be there for you if you won’t let me. So _let me_ or I won’t be there for you.’ He hadn’t let her.

 

They were legally separated, official divorce to follow. They both knew their marriage as they’d known it was over. If not for Junior and the arrival of Holly, Walt would have been out of the house long ago. But like it or not, Walt and Skyler’s marriage wasn’t just about them. They had the kids to think about, and in the first mature discussion they’d had in a while, they agreed that what was best for their children was to raise them together. It hadn’t been easy occupying the same house for a while. But Skyler was right. It _was_ getting better.

 

Skyler yawned and got up. “Think I’ll turn in. Will you put Holly to bed when they bring her over?”

 

“Sure thing,” said Walt. They exchanged a brief smile and then Skyler turned on her heel and headed in the direction of the master bedroom.

 

Walt settled back against the couch. He felt pretty good about this year. Soon his daughter would be coming home, and even though when he put her down in the nursery he’d be staying there since that was his new bedroom in his house, he was lucky to be there. Tomorrow he’d be thrust back into the real world but for now he could enjoy the fact that even if he didn’t feel quite _whole_ yet, he was alive.

 

***

 

J.P Wynne’s auditorium was bustling with activity. Teachers hugging those they hadn’t seen over the summer, greeting their friends, side-eyeing those with whom there was ‘teacher drama.’ Gradually the room started to divide into cliques, with the teachers who were new that year all standing awkwardly along the wall. High school is high school wherever you go, and teachers were in no way exempt from the social hierarchy that hit their students.

 

But J.P. Wynne wasn’t just a high school anymore. Full high school and elementary merger now. That probably accounted for all the unfamiliar faces that Walt saw as he walked into the auditorium. He gave Carmen a friendly wave as he walked by where she was standing at the front of the room with an immaculately dressed, dark-skinned man who Walt didn’t recognize, but guessed had to be the new principle for elementary. Apart from standing side-by-side with Carmen he gave off that image of authority, suit neatly pressed, glasses perched on his nose like he was born with them.

 

Walt surveyed the rest of the room. The blackboard said in large letters ‘Welcome staff of J.P. Wynne, old and new!’ and then in smaller letters, ‘Please take a red folder’. Walt grabbed one, not bothering to look inside. He knew it was their mission statement that they received every year about their role as teachers in the community, as well as a breakdown of Wynne’s timetable, emergency procedures, the annual schedule of field trips, and all the rest of it. It was more or less the same thing every year, and he knew Carmen would say if any significant changes had been made.

 

“Walt! Hey Walt! Over here!”

 

Walt managed to suppress a noise of exasperation at the sound of that voice.

 

Gale Boetticher, J.P. Wynne’s other chemistry teacher came running up to him, face shining eagerly, hand extended. “Hi there, Walt! How are you? Oh man, guess you’re keeping the hair! Or lack thereof, I should say!”

 

Walt was able to wrench his lips upwards in an approximation of a smile. “Hi, Gale,” he said somewhat tiredly, reaching out to shake his hand.

 

Before Gale could say anything else, Carmen’s voice cut across the noisy auditorium, amplified by a mic, asking everyone to take their seats.

 

Before Walt could say, “I’ll see you later,” and go find a place to sit, Gale was forcibly herding him towards the front row talking about how he’d saved them seats, and wondering why he and Walt hadn’t seen each other over the summer. It was impossible to escape Gale when he was this chipper so Walt let himself be steered into a seat, resigned.

 

Carmen looked around smiling until the chatter gradually deteriorated. She raised her mic again. “Thank you so much everyone, and welcome - or welcome back - to another year at J.P. Wynne!” Polite applause.

 

Carmen continued, stepping away from the table of red folders, skirt swinging. “I hope you’re all looking forward to working together with our student body in this upcoming year as much as I am.” She paused and smiled just a bit slyly. “And in a week when we’re already exhausted I hope you’re looking forward to the first of many staffroom happy hours.” A ripple of knowing laughter went around the room, and there was more genuine applause.

 

Carmen waited for it to die down and continued, “Before I go any further, this is a big year for Wynne as we’re thrilled to welcome for the first time, J.P. Wynne Elementary! This means a lot of exciting changes, and here to talk to you a bit about that is J.P. Wynne Elementary’s new principal, Mr. Gustavo Fring!”

 

The man she’d been standing with stepped forward and inclined his head politely at the applause. “Thank you, Ms. Molina,” he said. He spoke with a Spanish accent that was somewhat soft, and almost musical. And yet it didn’t betray a hint of nervousness, despite speaking to a room full of strangers all craning their necks to assess the new arrival.

 

“I’m very pleased to have been welcomed here at J.P. Wynne by all of you. I’ve served on the boards of, various educational programs, however this is my first time acting on a school’s administration as principle, and I’m very humbled to have been given this opportunity.”

 

He broke to look around the room that was completely silent to take in this soft-spoken yet assertive individual. He smiled pleasantly. “Some of you may be aware of my other business venture, Los Pollos Hermanos. I welcome you all to come by for a meal, although I cannot in good conscience recommend eating there more than once a week.” There was a murmur of appreciative laughter.

 

Mr. Gustavo Fring continued: “My business partner Max Arciniega has taken over the restaurant which has allowed me to become more fully immersed within the education system. However there still remains a tie between each of these establishments, and I am pleased that part of the restaurant’s profits have gone towards building this new elementary school, as well as assisting with the upkeep of the high school. Some might see this as a sign of ‘Corporate America sponsoring our children’s education with cheeseburgers.’” He broke off and smiled wryly. “To which I would say I am not American, and Los Pollos Hermanos doesn’t offer a cheeseburger option.” The room burst out into laughter.

 

His face took back on its pleasant expression and he finished by saying, “But in all seriousness, however people choose to view this merging, I hope at the end of the day they see it as a way of giving back to the community, an opportunity for which I am, again, very grateful, especially to your principal Ms. Carmen Molina, from whom I’ve taken this microphone for far too long.” And he handed the mic back to Carmen, to a much louder round of applause than he had started with.

 

Walt joined in on the applause, impressed at how deftly this newcomer had swung a roomful of adults onto his side. Teachers were nothing if not territorial. He turned his attention to Carmen who was now taking the mic and opening a thick binder. He’d always liked Carmen. She was so warm and pleasant (not to mention pleasant to look at) that the ministry of education would often come out of business meetings scratching their heads, trying to pinpoint the exact moment they’d been outmaneuvered and had agreed to all of her demands for the school. Carmen was shrewd like that, and knew her business. While Walt knew he was a talented teacher, he had to admit that he could never have the patience to do Carmen’s job, not to mention make it look as easy as she did.

 

He realized he’d been drifting when he felt Gale poke him in the arm. He bit down his annoyance. What were they, students in the back of the classroom? He’d been here fifteen years for chrissake, hadn’t he earned the right to tune out a staff meeting, even if it was the first of the year? Resentfully he turned his attention back to Carmen who was moving through a list of what must be the new elementary school teachers. She spoke briskly even though there had to be a lot of names.

 

“For art we have Jane Margolis, welcome Jane,” she smiled at younger dark-haired woman, whom Walt could have guessed was an art teacher without being told.

 

Carmen continued with the list. “Richard Meadows will be taking drama, welcome Richard. Caroline Nunez is teaching elementary music, thank you Caroline. And oh look, J.P. Wynne alumnae: Jesse Pinkman will be teaching homeroom kindergarten.”

 

Walt’s head snapped up, his eyebrows creasing. He must have misheard that. But now Carmen was saying: “Jesse is actually about to complete his bachelor’s in Kindergarten and Elementary education. We needed one more teacher for kindergarten and his university very kindly allowed him to start here early, and by all accounts we’re lucky to have him on board. Welcome Jesse. Welcome _back_ ,” she added warmly.

 

Walt felt like an idiot swiveling his head around to find him, but he wouldn’t see it until he believed it. And _there_ he spotted him on the other side of the auditorium, giving a cheery wave to its occupants. Jesse Pinkman. On J.P. Wynne’s teaching staff. Just when he was thinking that he’d seen it all.

 

He looked around the room again and caught the eye of one of his colleagues, Mr. Grant who taught high school math, and was one of the few who’d been teaching here longer than Walt. He’d have to remember Pinkman too. Mr. Grant looked just as bemused as Walt felt and raised his hands in an “I don’t know either” gesture back at Walt. Walt grinned, knowing they were both remembering their former, exceptionally disagreeable student. He mimed aiming a gun under his chin and pulling the trigger. Mr. Grant let out a chuckle and immediately covered his mouth. Walt turned back, needing to get another glimpse of Pinkman again. But when he found him again, Jesse, who’d been following every move of his antics, was meeting his gaze dead-on.

 

Walt stared back, refusing to be embarrassed at being caught out in a manner that was honestly more than a little reminiscent of the way Pinkman had acted out in his own classes.

 

He assessed his ex-student who had to now be in his mid-to-late twenties. He looked more or less the same, somewhat taller, although that was possibly due to the fact that he no longer seemed to carrying himself in that slouched manner that was so common among teenage boys.

 

It was his eyes that Walt recognized though. He’d seen them glaring from the back of his classroom enough times to recognize them when they were blazing at him from across an auditorium, even ten years later.

 

Walt was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable in the line of Jesse’s defiant gaze, but hell if he’d fold first. But then, just like that, Jesse’s face broke out into a slightly ironic smile, he gave his eyes a half roll, and shifted back to look at Carmen. After a beat he slid his eyes back, and when he saw that Walt was still staring at him he let out a full-on smirk and lifted his hand from where it’d been resting on his leg, waggling his fingers slightly.

 

Walt frowned and turned to face front, keeping his eyes fixed determinedly ahead. This was unbelievable. How had that little burnout managed to talk his way into a school, let alone his old school? And to be a _teacher_? This had to be a joke. Should he say something to Carmen? Skyler had told him to stay out of the elementary planning and he had every intention of doing so, but still…Jesse _Pinkman_?

 

However, he recognized that Carmen usually knew what he was doing, and this Fring character seemed to be pretty on the ball, as well. Was it possible Pinkman had turned over a new leaf? Walt sincerely doubted it. But still, he’d let it go. For now.

 

Carmen had finished the list of incoming staff and put down her enormous binder, smiling at the room. “Thank you all so much for your attention. Would the elementary staff please follow Gus to the gymnasium of the new elementary building? He’ll take you from there. J.P. Wynne high school teachers, if you’d like to go set up your classrooms you can do that, otherwise we meet back here in an hour for your official time-tables. Thanks everyone and I’m looking forward to a great year with you.”

 

There was an enormous scraping sound of a couple hundred or so teachers and other staff members getting to their feet, and shuffling towards the one main door. Walt felt ridiculous doing it but he _had_ to turn his head back to where Jesse had been sitting. But the elementary teachers were already funneling through the door.

 

“See you, Gale,” Walt said, and headed towards the front of the room, stopping to chat with various people and catch up. When he finally broke out of the room he turned away from the herd and began to make his way towards his classroom.

 

When he turned into the empty hall of the science wing he had to smile. The summer caretakers had been spending the whole off-season readying the school, top to bottom. The floors of the hallway had been scrubbed, stripped down and re-waxed so that the rows of lockers were reflected in the floor tiles. They’d be scuffed again within a week from the hordes of students dragging their feet, but even so, there was nothing quite like the start of a school year, no matter how tedious staff meetings could get.

 

Walt arrived at his classroom and removed the keys from his pocket, fitting them into the lock. The door swung open and he reached in automatically to the switch on the wall.

 

The lights flickered on, illuminating the classroom he’d been using ever since he was promoted to head of the chemistry faculty, ten years ago. He knew this room so well that it only took one look to assure everything was in order.

 

He strolled between the lab tables, pushing in one chair that was slightly askew. Normally the cleaning crew stacked chairs on top of the tables after they completed a room, and the teachers had to take them down themselves. But the chairs in Mr. White’s classroom were already taken down for him. Walt knew he probably had their janitor Hugo to thank for that, and made a mental note to look for him later.

 

Making his way to the front of the class he ran his hands over the gleaming lab equipment and turned on the main gas tap to test it. Heading behind his own desk he turned face the entire classroom that would be full this time next week. Flicking on the Bunsen burner he felt a small rush of approval as flame immediately shot out, wavering gently.

 

He frowned as his hand brushed against a small piece of white paper that was sitting on his desk. He thought it was litter at first, but smiled when he recognized Carmen’s stationary. He read through the note once, and then gently held it to the flame where it was consumed in a whoosh.

 

Gazing out at the classroom he couldn’t help the feeling of satisfaction at everything prepared, shining, and ready to go, all seeming to echo the same message as the note:

 

_Welcome back, Mr. White._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Thanks very much for reading and I hope this gets things off to a good start! Any and all comments/criticisms make my day, and I'm really looking forward to writing the rest!


	2. Chapter 2

“JUNIOR,” Walt bellowed down the hall. “Let’s GO!”

 

“Coming!” he heard Walt Jr. call out.

 

“Maybe it’s ok for you to be late on the first day of classes but let me tell you it’s a different story for me,” Walt yelled back. He turned and headed to front door. In actual fact they weren’t going to be late at all, but he knew if he let Junior think that then they _definitely_ would be.

 

“Ready for another year?” asked Skyler, dressed for work and looking up from where she was strapping Holly into her baby carrier.

 

“I’ll let you know if we ever get there. JUNIOR!” he called again and finally heard his son heading down the hall. “There he is, praise the lord it’s a miracle. The car’s open I’ll meet you there.”

 

“If _you’re_ not even ready to go then why are you yelling at _me_ ,” Walt Jr. grumbled as he shoved past Walt to get through the door.

 

“Keep that up and I’ll show you yelling, mister,” said Walt. He turned to Skyler, spreading his arms. “Do I look ok?”

 

“You…look like a teacher,” she said, smiling.

 

“Damn it! Is that what they want me to do there?” Walt smiled. “I’ll probably have to stay on a little later after school since it’s the first day but I won’t be too late.”

 

“That’s fine,” said Skyler. “Oh and don’t forget this.” She handed him a brown paper bag. “Good luck today.”

 

Walt took it tentatively. It had been a bit of tradition for them that on the first day of classes Skyler would pack his lunch. And even after everything they’d been through this past year, here it was, one more time.

 

Walt swallowed down the lump of guilt that had appeared in his throat. He leaned in and kissed his ex-wife swiftly on the cheek and went out to join his son in the car.

 

As they pulled out of the driveway Skyler came running out over to Junior’s side of the car. She leaned in and kissed his forehead. “I can’t believe I almost forgot, good luck starting high school, you!”

 

“Thanks mom,” Junior mumbled, but he was smiling. Skyler stepped back and waved once, and then they headed down the street.

 

“So,” asked Walt as they pulled onto the service road. “You excited?”

 

Junior shrugged, “I guess. I wouldn’t mind an extra week off though,” he looked beseechingly up at his dad.

 

Walt chuckled. “Wouldn’t we all.”

 

They didn’t chat much more on their way to school but when they pulled into the parking lot and Walt turned off the car he turned to look at Junior.

 

“Look,” he started to say.

 

“Dad it’s ok,” Junior interrupted. “You don’t have to give me a speech. I’m also glad you’re around to see me start high school.”

 

Walt raised his eyebrows. That was in fact more or less what he had been about to say. “Since when did you get so smart?” he asked him.

 

“I don’t know,” Junior said. He glanced at Walt a bit deviously. “It sure wasn’t my genetics.”

 

Walt barked out a laugh and opened his door. “See you later, kiddo.” And he headed inside.

 

Dodging the students in the now-packed hallways he managed to make it to his classroom in one piece. Throwing his briefcase onto the table he gave a quick look to the schedule he’d taped there that was keeping track of all of his periods as well as when he was on recess and lunch supervision duty.

 

First up was a grade seven basic science course. He silently thanked Carmen for wrangling him this one. Of course the ideal scenario would be _no_ period on a Monday morning, but if he had to have one then grade seven was a pretty good way to go. Still quite wide-eyed and not as jaded as the older students, grade sevens were generally quite easy to control and it didn’t take much to keep them in line. They were at that stage where everything was new and they were excited to be there. And that was an attitude that Walt could work with.

 

He glanced up at the clock on the wall. The bell would be ringing any minute now so he walked over to stand beside the door. By making himself the first thing his students would see when they walked in the classroom it established the room as his turf without him even having to say a word.

 

When the bell rang and a bunch of timid looking grade sevens shuffled in he had to suppress a smile. He swore they got smaller every year.

 

“Hats off,” he said to one boy walking in, baseball cap still on. The kid scowled but removed it. One to watch.

 

Once the second bell rang Walt let the door swing shut. Any student who arrived after the door was closed would have to go to the office and get a late slip. It might seem harsh, especially for a group of grade sevens in an unfamiliar school, but it would save Walt a world of pointless arguments later on. Even so, it looked like the full group was here.

 

Officially Walt was known as the chemistry teacher but it was unusual for teachers _not_ to double up in subjects. Basic science was one he taught quite frequently. Rather than launching right into a specific unit, after he took attendance and introduced himself and his expectations of them as a class, he handed out a questionnaire. It was one he had used many times for this course, and it outlined a list of terms and concepts, and the students had to say what they knew about as many as they could. It would help Walt get a feel for what they knew collectively as a class, and allow him to plan assignments accordingly.

 

The students worked diligently in silence for most of the period and when there were ten minutes left of class time Walt collected the sheets and paperclipped them together. Only then did he have them go around the room and save their names. It might have seemed like the natural idea to do that at the beginning of the period, to start things nice and easy. But if there was one tone that Walt _didn’t_ want to set for his classroom it was ‘nice and easy’.

 

The bell rang and the students shuffled back out the way they’d come in, a few of the braver ones thanking Mr. White. After the last one had left Walt closed the door. Quick and painless.

 

Walt had a free period now and he decided to use it to walk around the school and see who he bumped into. Locking up his class he headed down the corridors, greeting the staff he hadn’t had a chance to see at last week’s orientation.

 

Walking past the caretaker’s office he doubled-back to knock on the office door and poke his head inside. “Um,” he said to the roomful of surly looking custodians. “Sorry to bother you, is Hugo in?”

 

“Mr. White!” he heard a voice say, and the huge janitor appeared from around the corner. He walked outside to join Walt in the hallway. “What can I do for you,” he said, shaking his hand.

 

“Nothing Hugo, nothing,” said Walt. “The class looks great, I appreciate it.”

 

“Part of the job,” said Hugo. His face was blank but his eyes were smiling. It was not in fact part of his job to take down chairs for the teachers and they both knew that, but it was his way of saying ‘you’re welcome.’

 

Walt shifted his feet awkwardly. It wasn’t like there was much to say to each other. “Summer cleaning go well?”

 

“Pretty good,” Hugo shrugged. He looked at Walt. “You look better. You feeling better?”

 

“Much better, thanks Hugo,” Walt smiled, extending his hand again. “Have a good semester.”

 

“Hey you too,” said Hugo, shaking it.

 

Walt turned around and headed towards the main doors. He’d spent so much time wandering that it was almost recess, and he was on duty outside today.

 

Heading over to the south side of the playground he took a deep breath of the air that was already starting to feel crisp, even though it was still warm. He heard the bell go for recess and it didn’t take long before the students were spilling outside, filling the air with their yelling and shrieks of greeting.

 

The students quickly divided into sects, dispersing to various corners of the fenced-in playground. Groups of girls immediately took over the picnic tables, some students had produced a basketball and got a game of horse going, while others stood to the side wondering what they had to do or who they had to know to be invited. Walt could see one of his colleagues Ms. Sadua shooing a bunch of students off the main steps, where they weren’t supposed to be sitting during recess.

 

He cast his gaze over the fence that divided the high school courtyard from the new elementary playground. He could actually see part of the elementary building from the windows in his classroom but here he could get a full view. It was definitely something and in solid, pristine condition, as though every part came ready-made from a kit and the builders just had to assemble it. And this had all come from that Mr. Fring? Fast food paid better than Walt thought. Maybe he was in the wrong business.

 

He was about to turn his attention back to his own side of the playground when a figure caught his eye.

 

Jesse Pinkman was strolling across the yard, a swarm of schoolchildren all jumping eagerly around him.

 

Walt rested his hand on the dividing fence and leaned forward, squinting against the sunlight.

 

Yep that was Pinkman alright. Walt watched as Jesse and his gaggle of elementary students made their way across the playground, all laughing at something. When they reached a colourfully painted picnic table, Jesse took a seat on one of the low benches, folding his legs up under him, and the group of students around him immediately plopped down, imitating the motion. They looked for all the world like Maria and the Von Trapps.

 

Jesse appeared to be telling a story to the kids clustered around him and was gesturing broadly. He must have reached a funny point in the story because his fan club started squealing wildly.

 

Walt frowned slightly. If he was going to be entertaining kids he should keep it to the classroom. This was the time for students to bond with each other, not with their teachers.

 

But no sooner had he finished the thought than he saw Jesse gently directing the students back towards the rest of the playground, giving each of them a high five before they scampered away. Jesse leaned back and watched them go. Walt could see him smiling from where he was standing.

 

 

Walt still couldn’t believe it. Jesse Pinkman, schoolteacher. And from what he had just seen, a fairly well-liked one at that. Well. It was only the first day. Walt had seen countless people burn out in their first year of teaching, never again to enter the education system. Pinkman had probably been drawn to the profession with its promise of summers off. Walt smirked. He was sure that was the reason. He gave the kid another month.

 

As if sensing the negativity, Jesse suddenly glanced up and looked over to where Walt was standing against the fence, over on the high school side.

 

Walt groaned to himself. _Not again_. He couldn’t believe he’d been caught staring twice.

 

He saw Jesse look to each side, checking on the students running in every which direction. He then got up off his bench and started to walk across the playground, heading straight to Walt.

 

 _Oh God please no_ , thought Walt. It was too late to pretend he hadn’t seen him. But then he was literally saved by the bell when it shrilled across the open air, signaling the end of recess.

 

Walt breathed a sigh of relief and resisted the urge run back inside his own building. He didn’t spare a single glance behind him, but if he had he would have seen Jesse standing motionless with his hands in his pockets and a bemused look on his face, watching Walt go.

 

***

 

As Walt made his way back to his class he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He was glad it had now, while he was still in the hallway. He’d completely forgotten it was on, and if it had gone off in class in front of his texting-addicted students he’d lose all his credibility when telling them to put their own phones away.

 

His relief evaporated when he flipped it open. The text was from an unknown number and simply read “Online?” He quickly shut it, remembering to turn the phone off completely. He could answer it later.

 

He got to class and the grade nines started to enter shortly after him. Time for some chemistry.

 

After he took attendance and confirmed everyone was there he looked up at the room. Students who were all his son’s age were watching him warily.

 

“Welcome everybody to advanced chemistry. My name is Mr. White and I’ve been teaching this course for fifteen years.” Silence.

 

He strode to the front of the classroom, taking his time. When he was beginning as a teacher he’d been scared of silences in the classroom, opting instead to fill the room with words, verbally marking his territory, as though to remind everyone who was in charge. With experience he had come to realize the power in silences, and in making the students wait for your next words.

 

“You’re in this class because your previous teachers believed you can handle it. Whether or not they’re _right_ about that is completely up to you.” He paused. “Nonetheless you are an advanced class and I expect you to behave as such. Does this seem like something you’re capable of doing?” There was some nodding.

 

“Excellent,” said Walt clapping his hands together. “Then let’s get started.”

 

He walked over to the board and picked up a piece of chalk. “Chemistry is different from the other sciences in that everything we look at will be constantly changing. What we will be doing is asking ourselves _why_.”

 

He turned back to the class. “ _Why_ do changes occur? _Why_ do reactions happen the way they do? _Why_ is your phone out in my classroom, Mr. Alpizar?”

 

The student in question jumped at being addressed by name. “Sorry,” he mumbled and hastily tried to shove it back in his jacket.

 

Walt tilted his head to one side. “Sorry?”

 

The unfortunate student was now sliding down into his chair.

 

Walt placed the chalk he’d been holding back down. “ _Sorry_?” he repeated.

 

The kid – Brody was his first name – looked around for help that wasn’t coming from his classmates, all of whom were staring resolutely at the floor.

 

Walt walked over to Brody who now looked like he was trying to sink into the floor.

 

“I hate to break it to you, but ‘sorry’ isn’t going to cut it in this classroom,” Walt said, his voice dangerously low. “I don’t care if you’re ‘sorry’ for bad behavior, all I care about is that you DON’T DO IT,” he thundered the last part, making everyone jump.

 

He looked down at Brody whose face was flaming red. “Understand?” The kid nodded quickly, biting his lip. Walt held out his hand wordlessly and the student reached into his jacket and passed the phone to Walt, deliberately not touching his hand. Walt pocketed the phone and walked back to the front of the room.

 

“Chemistry is about discovery,” he continued, as though nothing had happened. “And there are many things we’ll discover. Will Bromine and Potassium reacting together create a gas that is poisonous or harmless? When Mercury and Promethium come into contact will they attract or repel one another? That’s what we’re going to find out. And the most important question of all: will your classmate get his phone back?” He looked out at the class with a shark-like grin. “Even chemistry has some unknowns. Open your books to chapter two.”

 

The rest of the class went quite smoothly.

 

***

 

After the last student had filed out and Walt had given the phone back to his student (but not without a lengthier dressing-down to ensure that the lesson stuck), Walt stretched and closed the door. He switched on his own phone, looked again at the text he’d received, and reached down to take his laptop out of his briefcase.

 

He set it up on his table and waited for it to turn on. He’d never owned a laptop before but it had been sent to him by the same person who’d sent the text from earlier.

 

When his desktop came up he scrolled down to the only icon he ever used on this computer. He opened it up and a private chat window appeared.

 

He’d barely clicked on it when a message popped up.

 

< Can you talk? – Seth >

 

Walt sighed and glanced up at the classroom clock. He looked back down and typed back:

 

< Go ahead. – Heisenberg >


	3. Chapter 3

Walt got home around six that night, more than ready to put his feet up. The light was blinking on the answering machine and he went to go listen to their messages. There was just one from Skyler saying she’d be home late because of a mix-up in the books and they needed her to stay on afterwards.

 

“…it shouldn’t take too long,” her voice was saying on the machine. “I mean it won’t be short but, you know…I won’t be home late. Once I finish the books I’m out of the office so…yeah. Hope you had a good first day back.”

 

Walt deleted the message. She never had been a very good liar.

 

He went to the fridge to take out a beer, half of which he drained while standing beside the open door, enjoying the cool air blasting on his face.

 

Walking back over to the living room he put the half-empty beer bottle onto a coaster and sunk into the cushions, closing his eyes. If Skyler didn’t want to tell him where she was, after Walt’s year of absenteeism she’d more than earned the right. He had a pretty good guess though.

 

Speaking of being distracted this past year…he reached into his briefcase to take out his laptop which he set up in front of him on the coffee table. Once the chat window from earlier popped up he quickly typed:

 

< Have confirmed. 20% solution at 4 degrees will yield more chemically dense residue. Try this method next time. – Heisenberg >

 

After rattling off the message he closed his laptop for the night, in no mood to be on call for more advice. He wished there was a way to do some sort of “clear history” option on the conversation thread he’d just been in. This “Seth” to whom he’d just sent the message had assured him that everything was untraceable, but he couldn’t help feel slightly paranoid anyways.

 

He shook his head slightly and sipped at the rest of his beer, marveling at what had to be the most bizarre hobby of his life.

 

Despite what cancer patients tell you about receiving their diagnosis, when Walt was informed that the pain he’d been feeling in his chest meant that he had only a couple years left to live, he didn’t even count it in the top five most devastating things to happen to him.

 

In a sense it was as though he was coming out of a very long nap. He began to see things around him he’d barely noticed before. He wasn’t talking about “how green the leaves on the trees suddenly looked” or other bullshit like that. He wasn’t suddenly finding the world a more beautiful place. Instead, he found himself noticing things like an expired gym membership, creased in the back of his wallet. Or a well-worn work shirt hanging in the back of his closet that he’d had for so long he couldn’t even remember buying it. After receiving his diagnosis a year ago, if anything, the world had become uglier.

 

Skyler and Walt Jr. had been the ones to receive the full brunt of his dissatisfaction. He’d been lashing out at everything around him but mostly them, as if they were the ones to blame for this feeling of having wasted his whole life, despite probably being the best two things to come of it. Not that Walt could see it that way, though.

 

He’d drawn back, become distant. But after endless arguing he’d agreed to chemo, if only just to get his family _off his back_ already. But he wasn’t expecting anything to come of it. Frankly it was a waste of money they couldn’t afford in the first place. Gretchen and Elliot had offered to step up in their role of the ‘friends with money’ that they wore so very well, but Walt wasn’t about to take their charity. Reluctantly he’d accepted help from Hank and Marie, though. It felt a little different coming from family. It wasn’t enough of a contribution for Walt to feel insulted anyways, but Marie’s connections in the hospitals did prove to come in quite handy for them.

 

So they had been getting by. The bills were ridiculous but they just manage to cover them. But that was only at the beginning. The longer Walt’s lifespan grew, the longer the bills grew too. Soon it was going to dry up and Walt would be a dead man walking again, but this time just pumped up with more radiation.

 

So. If he had a year to live then he would live it _exactly_ the way he wanted to. If this meant staying out all night getting drunk with people he barely knew, doing things he’d never even considered tempting before, like gambling, going to strip clubs, and searching through some of the seedier corners of the internet.

 

But it was on one of these all-night trips through online roadways that changed Walt’s fortunes around. Somewhere between reading obscure statistics and watching porn he’d found himself aimlessly searching through science forums written by academics, as though torturing himself for the path he didn’t end up taking.

 

He’d seen a thread that was titled simply: ‘Professional chemist needed.’ More out of curiosity than anything else he’d clicked it, but the rest of the post was blank except for an email address.

 

He still didn’t know why he hadn’t just pressed the backspace button, gone to some other part of the web and forgotten all about it. His finger had hovered over the mousepad. And then in a moment of pure impulse he clicked the email address there, attached a copy of his CV and sent it off. Was it merely the need for validation? Even if it was just from some anonymous person over the web? Needing to be recognized was often the biggest decision maker of all. Either way, Walt had sent in his information and waited.

 

He only had to wait an hour until he got a reply containing a single link. He clicked it and it went to an anonymous website whose main page was entirely black. Then green writing had appeared, the kind that cropped up in every hacker movie Walt had ever seen.

 

The writing was simply a formula but it was one that Walt recognized. Smiling to himself he typed back the solution and hit enter and held his breath.

 

Whoever was typing at the other end had sent him 10 more equations, all of which he was quickly able to identify, solve, and send back. There was a pause and then a line of script had appeared:

 

< I have a business proposition for you, Mr. White. >

 

Walt had practically _leaped_ away from the computer. Ok in all fairness his CV had had his name on it; he wasn’t exactly going for anonymity. But there was something eerie about receiving this message on a website that he had a strange feeling would be deleted from cyberspace forever if he exited out of it.

 

He paced around for about a minute. And then in one quick motion, as though ripping off a Band-Aid he typed back:

 

< I’m interested. >

 

He didn’t have long to wait.

 

< You now have a PO box at the Albuquerque Central Post Office. Check it tomorrow. You will receive further instructions. > And the message contained an address and the number of the PO box.

 

Walt had no idea what to expect when he showed up the next day, was issued a key, and went to remove its contents. But whatever he’d been expecting it wasn’t a new laptop (the one he was using today) and it certainly wasn’t also one thousand dollars in cash.

 

He remembered feeling blindsided, but had quickly stuffed the money in his pocket, looking around to check if anyone had seen. It was more money than he’d ever held in his life, and that included the summer he’d spent bartending in college as an extra job, whenever it was his turn to empty the safe.

 

Walt was surprised when he looked at the money in the privacy of their nursery later that night. He’d figured on blowing it all at a bar, buying drinks for everyone, enjoying the feeling of being the biggest man in the room.

 

But here in the nursery that was still in the process of being built…he didn’t see it like that anymore. Looking at the handful of money he saw a new crib for the daughter they were expecting. He saw physical therapy for the son he’d been neglecting. He saw something that would ease Skyler’s mind about the mortgage, no matter how much she’d been aggravating him lately. And he saw cancer treatment for himself.

 

Whatever these people were up to, he was in.

 

The individual he’d written to the first time on that blank website had never contacted him again, apart from in a note that came with the laptop, giving him a password that would put him in touch with ‘Seth.’ His new laptop brought him to the chat window that was now as familiar to him as the J.P. Wynne masthead on all their school emails.

 

At the beginning he’d been answering all sorts of technical questions. It appeared that this Seth who was apparently their chemist was in need of an advisor and that’s where Walt came in. After an awkward online introduction where Walt – in a moment of paranoia – had asked to be called ‘Heisenberg,’ Walt started to answer the chemist’s questions. The questions were all “what size XYZ would be needed to yield a result of XYZ” and Walt would send back measurements. They might send him dimensions one evening and Walt had to estimate ‘how much tubing needed to funnel solution from point A to point B’ and he’d send back his response.

 

And all through this process he would go back and check his PO box, which once a week would contain a stack of ten one-hundred dollar bills, identical to the one he’d received the first time.

 

Gradually the questions became less technical and ‘Seth’ asked less and less about lab equipment, focusing instead on chemistry.

 

Walt would receive formulas and specific questions about substances, and it generally didn’t take him long to come up with the best result. Sometimes it involved tinkering with his own lab equipment at the school after hours, but he was always able to give this anonymous chemist what he needed.

 

It didn’t take long before his unorthodox weekly payroll began to get larger and larger. Not in huge amounts at first. But Walt remembered going to his PO box one morning, opening it up, and counting out ten thousand dollars. In cash.

 

No matter how much he would receive later on, the number never dipped below ten thousand again.

 

Eventually he had had to invent some story for Skyler about where the money for his treatment was coming from, when their rainy-day income was so obviously drying up. So for all Skyler knew now, her husband had finally seen sense and had accepted the extra help from Gretchen and Elliot. Walt let her believe it.

 

Walt couldn’t tell her the truth. True, there was nothing illegal about the messages he’d been sending. There was nothing illegal about giving chemistry advice.

 

But between the nature of the messages, the very specific chemistry that Walt was advising about, as well as the sums of cash being delivered weekly… you didn’t have to be a scientist to put two and two together.

 

Walter White was cooking methamphetamine.

 

***

 

Later on in the week Walt was relaxing in the large staffroom where teachers would go for lunch or to unwind between classes, when they couldn’t stand the sight of their desks anymore. Walt knew just about everyone on the high school staff and was on a fairly friendly basis with all of them. But he couldn’t honestly say he had any real _friends_ at the school. Which is why he was in a corner armchair by himself, reading a newspaper and watching his colleagues chat amongst themselves.

 

He watched two of the English teachers with amusement. Their ongoing feud was a long-running source of entertainment to everyone on the staff, apart from them.

 

You would _think_ that teachers tended to clique together within their departments but it was generally quite the opposite. With teachers who taught the same subject there was much more room for rivalry and petty drama, coming from a sense of competition. But when teachers made friends with each other within schools, it was generally between those who shared the same breaks, or those with neighboring classrooms, simply because they were the ones you saw the most throughout your day.

 

Although of course there could be exceptions. Like right now apparently, when Kim who was one of the high school art teachers came walking into the staff lounge with the pretty, dark-haired young woman who Walt remembered from orientation. The one who also taught art but on the elementary side. He couldn’t remember her name though.

 

“Hi Walt,” said Kim, walking by him with the other woman, heading over to the coffee pot on the long counter by the wall, next to Walt’s chair.

 

“Hi Kim,” said Walt smiling up at her, before turning back to his newspaper.

 

“So what do you think, Jane?” asked Kim, reaching into the cupboards to take down two coffee mugs. _Jane_ that was it. They were right next to Walt so he listened in on their conversation, not because he wanted to eavesdrop, but just as something to do.

 

“It’s _nice_ ,” said Jane. She spoke in a tinkling voice that was slightly nasal, but not unpleasantly so. “I mean ours is new and everything but this is still pretty good.”

 

“Oh, well that whole building looks _great_ , just from what I’ve seen,” said Kim.

 

“Oh you haven’t been in yet? Stop by my class on a break, I’ll give you a tour! Never thought I’d get a room so nice,” Jane laughed.

 

“Well that Mr. Fring really seems to take care of you guys over there,” said Kim meaningfully.

 

“He’s been great,” said Jane. “He stopped by to see everyone on the first day and check in that everyone had what they needed. I can’t imagine how busy he must be at the moment but he’s always available.”

 

“Pretty cute too,” said Kim lowering her voice, glancing quickly around, and turning back to raise her eyebrows at Jane.

 

Jane laughed. “Oh yeah, big time. But wrong tree. _Trust_ me on this one.”

 

“No…really?” said Kim, in hushed tones.

 

“Well I doubt it’s a secret but that business partner of his? Not just business,” said Jane, shaking her head. They giggled together and Walt rolled his eyes behind his paper.

 

“Oh _wow_ ,” said Jane, taking a sip from the mug that Kim had prepared for her. “But no way is the coffee this good on our side.”

 

“Right?” laughed Kim. “One of our science teachers has his own brew he brings in for everyone. Pretty sure it’s why they keep him around.” Walt snorted and then faked a coughing fit when the two women looked over at him. He smiled back innocently and then fixed his eyes to a newspaper article at random.

 

“How are all the teachers getting along in elementary?” asked Kim, leaning against the counter while stirring her coffee.

 

“I can’t complain!” said Jane. “Everyone’s really nice and I already knew a couple of people before starting. One of my best friends actually works right down the hall from me, which is nice. Jesse Pinkman?” Walt, who’d been starting to tune them out, felt suddenly yanked back in. Jesus, was Pinkman’s presence here determined to follow him around the whole goddamn school?

 

Kim’s forehead wrinkled in concentration. “Kindergarten right?”

 

“Oh Kim you should _see_ what he’s done with the place, it’s incredible, the kids are loving it.”

 

“You know I’d actually heard some good things about it there,” Kim nodded approvingly. “Good for him. He’s the one that Carmen mentioned was still in school, right?”

 

“Well only technically,” said Jane, blowing on her coffee to cool it down. “I mean he’s not going to classes or anything since this is a full-time job. I guess you could say he _did_ graduate actually, but he still needs one more evaluation.”

 

Kim frowned. “How’s that?”

 

Jane lowered her voice and Walt shamelessly strained his ears to listen. “He was on his final solo student-teaching internship when his aunt died. They were close so he was pretty cut up about it and didn’t even make it through his final evaluation.”

 

Kim whistled. “That’s a doozy.”

 

“Tell me about,” nodded Jane. “It’s the nightmare. _But_ , his evaluations had been going great up until then so they gave him some leeway. He just has to do one more while teaching here and then he can get his diploma for real. Gus really fought for him apparently. He was quite the golden boy of his education faculty.”

 

“Wow. And he went to high school here too, didn’t he? Oh hey Walt!” Kim said, addressing him.

 

“Hmm?” said Walt after a beat, acting as though he’d been totally immersed in his reading.

 

“You ever teach Jesse Pinkman?”

 

Walt pretended to think back. “Oh yeah,” he said, as though just remembering. “Teaching here now, right? Yeah I taught him once.” He looked at the two women there who seemed to be waiting for him to say something more. He opened his mouth and snapped it shut, smiling at them. “It was a while ago though, I don’t really remember. Sorry.”

 

Kim and Jane looked at each other and shrugged. Kim threw the spoons they’d been using into the sink and they headed over to the couches on the opposite side of the staffroom. “So what’s so good about Jesse Pinkman?” asked Kim as they were leaving.

 

Walt never got to hear Jane’s answer since they were now completely out of earshot. He turned his attention back to his paper.

 

What _was_ so good about Jesse Pinkman?

 

Walt could have answered the question for her.

 

Nothing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Thanks so much for making it through all the exposition! All your comments have been absolutely amazing and I looove to hear them!  
> \- And for those who were waiting for Jesse to appear: you're all so patient haha. From the next chapter on out you can expect a LOT more of him!  
> \- I've been experiment with writing more descriptively, but now that Jesse will be appearing just about constantly that means my favourite: DIALOGUE! Definitely expect a metric fuckton of Walt/Jesse interaction from this point onwards haha.  
> \- OH YEAH and I'd originally planned on making this 20 chapters but realized that the outline I had works much better with 15 so that's the new projected length. But since I do have a sequel planned, hopefully that'll be forgiven:P  
> \- Thanks again for reading and I really hope you guys have been enjoying! This is where things start to pick up plot-wise, so stay tuned:P


	4. Chapter 4

“Alright, who wants to go add the next one onto the board?”

 

“ME!” shouted a chorus of small but thrilled voices. And looking out into the sea of waving hands and thrilled faces, Jesse Pinkman wondered what he had done to feel this lucky every day.

 

“Ok, who’s it going to be…Brett, you can’t go twice in a row!” said Jesse, laughing. He circled an arm over the heads of his students and they all watched it like a group of kittens tracking a laser pointer. “Let’s make it…Christy!” he said, dropping his hand over the head of a tiny brunette girl with glasses and an overbite. She squealed and shot forwards, grabbing the chalk from his hand.

 

“Ok there’s only _one_ letter left, guys,” said Jesse. “And the man is only standing on _one_ more board.” He walked over to the chalkboard, picking up an eraser. “Whose turn is it to guess…Lisa right? Ok Lisa,” he grinned at her. “The fate of the chalk man is resting in the next letter.”

 

The girl in question was vibrating nervously. She screwed up her face adorably, thinking of what letter to choose.

 

“Ummm…N?” she asked, opening one eye.

 

“Ben,” he called out theatrically to a boy standing by the chalkboard. “Moment of truth. _Does your word have an N in it_ ”

 

“NO!” the boy yelled in delight.

 

“Ohhhh,” yelled Jesse exaggeratedly, and in one flourish, wiped off a line of chalk from the board, and dramatically drew an arrow through the chalk man, indicating that he’d fallen with a splash into the chalk shark tank below him. As far as special effects went it was actually kind of lame. But it made his class laugh their heads off every time.

 

“Alright everybody, what should we do now?” asked Jesse to his group of kindergarteners. They all screamed out answers.

 

“Hands, guys!” he said laughing. “Yes good, Adam has his hand up, what activity should we do next, Adam?”

 

The boy who’d been raising his hand lowered it to ruffle his unruly blond curls.

 

“Why don’t you pick, Mr. Jesse? You _always_ let us pick what to do.”

 

Jesse was a bit taken aback. “Don’t you guys like picking activities? You always have the best ideas!”

 

Adam shrugged his tiny shoulders and looked down at the floor. “I don’t have any good ideas.”

 

“Don’t say that, Adam,” said a girl named Rose who patted his back before Jesse even had a chance to open his mouth. At the very beginning of his classes with them he had introduced a kindness policy that meant that their most important role as students was to be kind to each other. If anyone was mean the whole class would stop right there and they would discuss it. It was something Jesse had just been throwing out as an idea but they’d taken to it shockingly well for a group of five year olds.

 

“She’s right, Adam,” said Jesse, kneeling down to be at eye-level with his students. “Everyone here has great ideas so let’s hear some!”

 

The kids all started screaming what they wanted to do. Oh boy, this was going to deteriorate fast.

 

“Okay okay okay,” said Jesse holding up his hands. “If you want to do arts and crafts, _four_ of you can go to the table. If five of you want to do silent reading, there are the beanbag chairs. Two of you can play with the toys at once but you get five minutes before you have to switch. And um. The rest of you…go nuts!”

 

The kids all stood up so fast it was a wonder no one knocked heads. Although there was still time for that as they ran at breakneck speed towards the various stations, looking like the world’s tiniest football team.

 

Jesse was going to be running around from station to station to keep an eye on them. It maybe wasn’t the most systematic way of doing things. But my god he hated telling kids what to do. He’d had enough of teachers using their power to boss people around from when he was a student. And when he started studying education himself he swore he wouldn’t be one of those teachers.

 

He could hardly believe he was back here, almost ten years after he left high school. Ok well not back _here_ exactly, this was a brand new building. But back at Wynne in general. The place he swore he wouldn’t touch again with a ten-foot pole.

 

Good lord Jesse had hated school. He hated the schedule, he hated the people, and for the most part he had hated the classes too.

 

Despite what some teachers might have said, Jesse knew he wasn’t an idiot, which somehow made the classes almost worse. He wanted _so_ badly to enjoy them. But it was never worth the effort in the end. No matter how much a certain idea might have gripped him when hearing about it in class, holding onto it was like trying to hold water with his bare hands. It always ended up slipping through his fingers by the time the test rolled around anyways. So why bother holding on at all?

 

So while Jesse never really ended up bothering with the actual work aspect of his classes, he was smart enough to appreciate a good class. Not that you’d know it from the way he generally behaved in them, though. It was no small wonder why so many of his teachers hated him.

 

Take Mr. White for example, whom Jesse had glimpsed several times now in his first week of teaching. Now there was a shining example of a dick and a half. But my _god_ the guy could teach.

 

Jesse didn’t remember a single thing about chemistry. Out of all the subjects he didn’t care about, science he maybe cared about the least. But somehow he cared during the 45-minute periods he’d spent in Mr. White’s classroom. It didn’t matter what he was teaching. Somehow the guy made it seem like theatre. He’d start out with this one tiny seed of an idea, and through a series of gestures and demonstrations he would cultivate it until they were standing in a rainforest of ideas grown from seemingly nothing.

 

And then he’d go and be a dick and in doing so would tear the whole thing down.

 

Jesse smirked to himself. _And now we’re coworkers_ , he thought smugly, adding a mental ‘ _jerk_ ’ for good measure. Mr. White couldn’t be a dick to him now. Well, actually no. Jesse was sure he could find a way. But he couldn’t fail Jesse anymore.

 

It wasn’t just Mr. White though. There were a few of Jesse’s old teachers still around the place and Jesse had been enjoying the degrees of bug-eyes from all of them when they realized who their new colleague was. Jesse almost laughed out loud just thinking of when he’d bumped into his old English teacher in the halls who had barked, ‘Pinkman get back to class,’ when he’d seen him. When the teacher had done a double-take and literally had to stop to adjust his spectacles and peer at the adult Jesse Pinkman, he looked like he was trying to remember what century he was in…oh god, Jesse had just about died laughing the whole way back to his building.

 

Jesse walked over to his chalkboard, erasing the series of drawings on it. The game they’d been playing was his own version of hangman. He had gone to play hangman with them on his very first day of teaching, relying on the old standards. But as he was drawing a noose he was suddenly struck by just how very _sketchy_ this game was in reality. Sure, no problem, let’s just draw a slowly suffocating man on the board. What grade is this? Kindergarten? Yeah that sounds _perfect_.

 

Yeah not so much. So thinking quickly on his feet Jesse had adapted the game to feel a little more child-friendly. It was pretty much the same exact premise but you start out with a fully drawn man. Under him you draw ten lines which were supposed to be boards. Every wrong letter meant one board got erased until the chalk man was just standing on one. If the last board got erased then the man fell into the “shark tank” drawn below.

 

Don’t ask him why being eating alive by sharks had seemed less sketchy at the time than dangling from a noose. But it was, and the kids had loved it and had begged to play the game every day since.

 

Hearing a commotion from the art table, Jesse went over to break up an argument over the red scissors that apparently ‘cut better’ and were fought over by every kid in the class. Jesse had wanted to take them away the very first day, but looking at his kids’ devastated faces he couldn’t quite manage it. If it meant he had to dissolve constant bickering over who had them first so be it, but at least it meant he didn’t have to be faced with about thirty disappointed faces.

 

Oh god. As much as he loved them, Jesse found himself wondering the same thing every teacher, no matter how senior or how motivated, always eventually asked themselves:

 

_When was lunch._

 

Lunch, after the monitors came to relieve Jesse of his duties for an hour, could really be held anywhere, whether it was at his desk or in the staffroom. But mostly Jesse liked to eat with Jane in the crowded cafeteria. It was like being back in a weird version of high school. One where he felt at ease and one where he actually had a friend.

 

And Jane was maybe the best friend he’d ever had.

 

Except for when she was stealing his French fries like she was doing right now.

 

“Hey,” he said while swatting her hands away between gulps of coke. “Hands off.”

 

Jane just popped the few she’d managed to snag into her mouth, while grinning. “Too slow.”

 

Jesse shrugged. “I let you have that one. Goodness of my own heart, you know.”

 

“I’m saving your heart is what I’m doing,” said Jane wisely, taking a sip of her own fruit juice. “Having those every day will kill you. Or make you fat,” she added, reaching out for another.

 

Jesse snorted. “Yeah I think I’m fine. Pretty sure you weigh more than me there, Margolis.”

 

Jane raised an eyebrow devilishly. “Not sure if that’s supposed to be more insulting to me or to you.”

 

“Same,” laughed Jesse, taking a bite of his burger. They plowed through their meals chatting animatedly about the classes they’d just taught. A few more fries found their way to Jane’s plate.

 

They had known each other for five years now, and had ended up attending the education faculty of the same university, although they taught different subjects. But university wasn’t where they had _met._

 

Where they’d actually met was in the basement of a community center at a meeting for recovering addicts.

 

Yup. Former meth-head, pot-head, now-head-of-kindergarten, Jesse Pinkman. Yeah he couldn’t really believe it either.

 

And never mind _his_ old habits, it was even more incredible that Jane was here as well. He knew it wasn’t like recovery was supposed to be a competition. But still, sharing stories and cigarettes with Jane on the hood of his car after their first meeting and hearing the list of shit that she’d been through…Jesse felt like his old addictions could barely hold a candle to hers.

 

They’d instantly got along in the meeting, and afterwards, when her lips had brushed his knuckles as he’d held out his lighter for her, he couldn’t help asking her out right then and there. She’d just given him a wry smile and blown smoke gently towards his face.

 

“Men are on the list too, mi compadre,” she’d told him. “You can be in recovery from a lot of things, not just the stuff you can inject or swallow.”

 

There’d been a moment of silence and then Jesse had turned to her and mumbled:

 

“Well…I mean technically you can _kind_ of still do that with men, I’m just saying…”

 

She’d smacked him but was laughing, and in doing so she had sealed what would be one of the most important relationships of Jesse’s life. He still thought she was cute, I mean duh he wasn’t _blind_. But first and foremost she was his best friend and he loved her more than anything.

 

Yeah they’d both seen some pretty fucked up shit. But they were here together and better than ever. If he hadn’t met her Jesse might not have been half as inclined to go to university as he was. But Jane had urged him that it wasn’t too late to apply.

 

“You’d love it,” she’d told him once, after one of their meetings. “It’s not like high school at all. They’re _civilized_ there. You can eat in class and it’s not banned."

 

Jesse had laughed. “What would I even apply to?”

 

Jane shrugged. “They’ve got everything. Why not try for education like me?”

 

Jesse had been skeptical. “Me? Jane I _sucked_ at school.”

 

“Doesn’t matter!” She had scoffed after saying that. “You would think you need good marks but really you don’t. They honestly take all sorts just because they’re so desperate for teachers.”

 

Jesse snorted. “I’m really feeling wanted here.”

 

“I didn’t mean _that_. Oh come on just think about it! You can always switch programs after your first year, a lot of people do that. Come _on_ , Jesse, just think about it?”

 

He had thought about it. He thought about it all the way home from the community center. He thought about it lying awake in bed that night.

 

The next day he wasn’t thinking about it anymore since he was filling out an online application. The section under ‘Education Faculty’ had had a list of boxes you could check from. Pre-K, Special Needs Education, Teaching English as a Second Language, Secondary Education, Elementary Education…and then Kindergarten Education.

 

Well. He had always liked kids. He’d ticked the box beside Kindergarten and had sent it in. And the best four years of Jesse’s life later he was graduating university.

 

Ok well _almost_. He’d passed all of his classes and field experiences except for that _one_ evaluation.

 

Jesse couldn’t believe he’d made it so far to almost blow it all on one measly little evaluation from his supervisor, a woman who just sat in the back of the class, watched him teach and scribbled notes. Ok not ‘measly’ since the final evaluation was the most important since it was supposed to mark your progress. But – and in direct contrast to his years of high school - it wasn’t like there’d ever been any question of him _passing_ it. He’d always been better in front of the classroom than in the back. His supervisor being there really just felt like a formality.

 

Except it had become less of a formality when Jesse had lost it completely, totally broke down and ran out of the classroom and his supervisor had had to take over a classroom full of students she’d never seen before, while Jesse threw up in the bathroom.

 

His aunt had died the night before. Not only was that absolutely _crushing_ by itself, no matter how expected it was, but it had completely opened a bunch of floodgates to everything else. He hadn’t even told Jane how badly it had gone.

 

But somehow he’d been given a second chance. His supervisor liked him, and given that all of her other evaluations were so high she was extremely understanding of the aunt situation. But the term was over and it had been his final day so what other classes could she come back and watch?

 

Jesse was _so_ sure he’d blown it but his university had been remarkably compassionate. He was still considered “graduated” but it wouldn’t be official until his next teaching post where he could have a chance to be evaluated again, just to complete the necessary paperwork. And when the post had opened up at Wynne’s new elementary side, Jesse was pushed by his university to take it. Gus Fring was a name he’d seen on lists of his faculty’s board of directors but he had never actually met the man. Now all of a sudden this stranger was urging Jesse’s teachers to get him on board, apparently after seeing some of his activities. Jesse was flattered and although he’d had to suppress some distaste at the words “J.P. Wynne” he’d accepted.

 

And now here he was with Jane, and despite one more looming evaluation he was on top of the world. He’d found his passion and even if the kids could get crazy sometimes he wouldn’t change his position for any other in the world.

 

Lunch seemed to be over in five minutes, and soon Jesse was saying bye to Jane and jogging back to his classroom to make sure he was there before the lunch monitors came back with his students.

 

 _His students_. Saying that never got old.

 

The time in a kindergarten class right after lunch was more a question of just finding things for the students to do since no way were they up for concentrating. On a whim Jesse decided to take them on a trip through J.P. Wynne Senior. Maybe he could show them his picture on the wall, they’d find that hilarious.

 

Walking down the halls his group was being their normal noisy selves, no matter how many times Jesse tried to shush them. One “shhh” would put a band-aid on their constant exclamations but they’d start right back up again in a minute. Eventually Jesse just gave it up.

 

They were having so much fun he didn’t notice when they’d entered the science wing.

 

“These are high school lockers,” he called out to his group.

 

“They’re taller than me!” exclaimed one student in amazement.

 

“Pfft, they’re taller than _me_ ,” said Jesse and the students screeched with laughter.

 

Then all of a sudden the door in front of them was suddenly flung open and a teacher stormed out while barking, “Excuse me there are _classes_ going on here so would you mind shutting the hell _up_ -”

 

\- and found himself coming face to face with a group of traumatized five year olds.

 

Jesse watched Mr. White’s face drain of colour with his mouth opening and closing in shock, and had never wanted to laugh more in his life.

 

That is until one of his students began to cry.

 

 

***

 

The end of the day found Walt erasing his blackboard and resisting the urge to knock his head against it repeatedly. He was still cringing from earlier. He couldn’t believe he’d made a little girl cry. Not that he’d never done the same to some of his own students, but even his hardass behavior had _some_ limits. He usually waited to make them cry until they were in grade eight at _least_.

 

Oh god that had been the worst. And of all the teachers in all the school, those kids had to belong to _Jesse Pinkman_. Like the situation needed to be more embarrassing.

 

And what had a bunch of five year olds been doing in the senior science wing in the first place? Probably Pinkman’s hairbrained idea of a field trip. He wouldn’t put it past him.

 

He was packing up and getting ready to go when someone knocked at his door.

 

“Come in,” he called, not looking up. That was, until a voice he hadn’t heard in ten years was saying:

 

“Mr. White.”

 

Walt’s head jerked upwards. And there he was. The ex-student he’d been trying to avoid and – in a morbidly curious way – still somehow soak up every piece of gossip about for the past week. Jesse Pinkman, in the flesh.

 

“Oh. Hey.” Walt looked back down and pretended to sift through some papers on his desk.

 

Jesse snorted. “Oh hey? Yeah, missed you too.” He strolled around the room looking at the walls. He glanced over at Walt like he was trying not to laugh. “What, you couldn’t get some new posters?”

 

Walt sighed. “Do you want something, Jesse?”

 

Jesse’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline and he walked back over to Walt’s desk. “Do I _want_ something? Dude. You made one of my kids _cry_ today.”

 

Walt squirmed a bit. No matter what excuses he had, there was no getting around the unfortunate fact that he had, indeed, made a five-year-old girl cry.

 

“Yeah I’m…sorry about that,” he said awkwardly.

 

“And the other twenty-nine are probably scarred for life from being jumped at by some giant, deranged jack-in-the-box popping out at them telling them to, what was it, ‘shut the hell up’?” Jesse waved his arms as though imitating Mr. White.

 

“ _Sorry_ ,” said Walt more emphatically.

 

Jesse put his arms down looking slightly mollified. “Yeah, thanks. But actually that’s why I’m here. I was actually hoping you’d maybe,” he broke to scratch the back of neck. “Apologize to my class” he finished.

 

Walt stared at him. “Are you serious?”

 

If Jesse had felt awkward about asking him the first time he now looked like he’d made a decision. “Yeah. I want you to apologize to the kids.”

 

Walt raised an eyebrow. “Do you even know how loud you were being?”

 

Jesse stared at him like he was crazy. “That is _so_ not even the point, man.” He shuffled a bit though and added: “But yes, fine, we were being loud. _Sorry_. I didn’t even realize it.”

 

Walt laughed humorlessly. “Yeah…it’s hard to tell sometimes when you’ve been teaching for what, ten whole minutes?”

 

Jesse’s mouth fell open and then closed it, looking at Mr. White with a piercing expression. “That’s it, isn’t it,” he said smirking. “You don’t think I should be here, and that’s why you’re being a prick to me right now.”

 

Walt opened his mouth to object at the ‘prick’ part but Jesse cut him off. “Oh come on man, don’t deny it. If that had happened to any other group and it was any other teacher but me asking, you’d probably have said yes in a minute.”

 

Walt paused. “With some teachers it might have taken two minutes.” Jesse barked out a startled laugh, looking at him in astonishment. Walt cursed himself. _Why are you joking with him, Jesus what’s wrong with you_.

 

“Come on Jesse, I can’t say I remembered you _much_ but from what I _can_ remember…you? Teaching in a school?” Walt gave him a frank look. “Not exactly a leap I’d have made.”

 

Jesse rolled his eyes. “And what, people don’t change?” he asked, leaning onto Walt’s desk and fixing him with a stare.

 

Walt stared back. “No. They don’t.”

 

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Look man, as great as it’s been to uh, ‘catch up’” he said sarcastically, “I really need an answer. We’ve been doing this whole theme of respect and kindness in class or whatever, and I really think it would send a good message if you came and showed them adults can do it too, especially after you, oh yeah, told them to _shut the hell up_?”

 

Walt looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. He looked back at Jesse and said, “ _Fine_. I’ll come.”

 

“Jesus, finally,” said Jesse. “And after that I _promise_ I’ll be out of your…hair” he finished, quirking an eyebrow at the lack of it on Walt’s head. He then broke out into a grin. “It’s a good look, Mr. White.”

 

Walt looked at him in exasperation. “Was there anything else or am I allowed to leave my classroom now?” he asked drily.

 

Jesse’s lip twisted up. “Um, yeah man. As much as I can remember the feeling of wanting to get out of this classroom, we still haven’t said when. What day is good for you to come in? Tomorrow?”

 

Walt pretended to think about it. “Tomorrow’s no good. After the weekend?”

 

Jesse actually burst out laughing. “Dude I can _see_ your schedule it’s literally taped to your desk. Oh perfect you have first period off, let’s do it first thing. Hang on,” he squinted at Walt’s schedule. “Jesus, you have the whole _morning_ off?”

 

Walt slammed his hand over his time-table but Jesse just grinned up at him. “Man, who knew teaching high school was where it’s at? What is this, you practicing for retirement or something? I knew you were old but you’re not _that_ old.”

 

Walt glared at him. “Are we done here?”

 

“Yep,” said Jesse brightly. “See you first thing tomorrow,” he said, turning to make his way through the lab tables towards the door.

 

Walt headed after him. “Just so you know this is for the students, not for you,” he called out.

 

Jesse waved over his shoulder. “I’m touched. First thing tomorrow.” And he pushed through the door, which swung shut just as Walt reached it.

 

Walt leaned against the wall and exhaled in a rush. Jesus, what the hell had that been. And what was he doing letting some twenty-five year old punk push his buttons like that, making Walt look like an idiot. He didn’t care if Pinkman was taller now, spoke marginally less like a gangster and wore clothes that actually fit him. Once a punk, always a punk.

 

He was about to walk back to his desk when he thought he heard his son’s voice in the hall. Frowning slightly he peered through the glass in his door, staying out of sight. There was Junior, and was that Jesse still hanging around?

 

“Oh hey man,” Jesse was saying. “If you’re going in to ask him something I’d maybe wait a bit. Think I might have left him in not-the-best mood, my bad.” It was clear he had no idea that this was Walter White Jr.

 

Junior looked amused. “Thanks,” he said. “But I think I’ll be fine.”

 

Walt could see Jesse lifting his eyebrows. “Got balls, man,” he said, raising his hand. “Respect.” And they did one of those complicated handshakes Walt could never understand.

 

“Peace out brother,” called out Jesse heading down the hall.

 

“Thanks man,” Junior called back.

 

Walt was about to go outside but something in Junior’s smile stopped him. It was confident, friendly, at completely at ease.

 

Walt had always felt regretful about what he knew his son must face on a daily basis in high school, a place that was a breeding ground for judgment. But in the very briefest of exchanges, Jesse Pinkman had somehow made his son, just for instant, look like any other teenaged boy in the world. There in the hallway, Junior looked like he belonged, and simply because, with a few quick words, Jesse had treated him like he did.

 

 Walt stepped away from the door when Junior made his way through.

 

“Hey dad, you ready to go?”

 

“Yeah one sec,” said Walt as he jogged back to his desk to grab his briefcase. Checking that the door was locked, father and son left the room together.

 

“Hey dad, who was that?” asked Junior, as they made their way down the hall.

 

Walt glanced over his shoulder where he could just make out Jesse’s figure turning a corner, and then vanishing.

 

Walt turned back. “Apparently it’s a teacher,” he said, shaking his head in confusion, as they headed out into the sunny parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Annnd at long last, some Jesse scenes! Haha thanks for your patience:) My reasoning for holding out was: on the show we only actually get substantial Jesse backstory in the 4th episode. So I just thought it would be a cute homage to do the same here and wait until the 4th chapter for some Jesse POV :P  
> \- This will be still be MOSTLY from Walt's perspective, but there'll be a healthy mix of both, especially now that they've actually SPOKEN! Not just eye-contact! Heating up in here, clearly.  
> \- Haha thanks so much again for reading! If you guys had any comments or criticisms, ideas or anything at all I'd be thrilled to hear it! You're all the best:)


	5. Chapter 5

Walt came up against another dead-end hallway and let out a groan of frustration, checking his watch. He should have been in Jesse’s classroom five minutes ago but he had spent the last fifteen getting lost in the world’s most convoluted set of corridors, trying to find just where the hell it even was in the first place.

 

There were no longer any windows where he was, and jesus, how had he ended up underground? He didn’t even remember taking stairs.

 

However bright and attractive the new elementary building was, wherever he was wandering right now was considerably less so. Walt was positive this was the second time he’d walked through this hallway that was a particularly dismal shade of grey.

 

He was just turning around to retrace his steps when a voice echoed through the corridor:

 

“May I help you?”

 

Walt almost had a heart attack. He hadn’t seen a soul down here for the past fifteen minutes, and suddenly there was the figure of a man that had seemingly materialized out of nowhere.

 

“My apologies,” said the figure, and as he stepped out into the light Walt realized it was Mr. Fring, principle of the elementary side, who he hadn’t seen since that first day of orientation. “I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

 

Walt felt a rush of relief. “That’s ok. It’s Mr. Fring, isn’t it?”

 

“Please, call me Gus,” he said, holding out his hand.

 

“Walter White,” said Walt, reaching out to take it. As he shook it he asked: “Where are we exactly, Gus?”

 

Gus chuckled. “If you were lost I can’t blame you. I supervised the designing of the blueprints myself, and still find myself in unfamiliar places. What is it you’re looking for?”

 

“I’m trying to find Pinkman’s, I mean Jesse Pinkman’s kindergarten class?”

 

Gus nodded and extended a hand towards a stairwell door that Walt could have _sworn_ he’d checked before. “Right this way.”

 

They walked up through the stairs, Gus led them around a few corners, and suddenly they were back on the main floor of the sunny elementary building.

 

“May I ask why you were looking for Jesse Pinkman’s classroom?” Gus asked as they walked briskly through the halls. “It was my understanding you taught in the high school. Chemistry, I believe?”

 

Walt looked at him surprised, and Gus smiled. “Carmen speaks very highly of you, along with the rest of your colleagues. She says your classes are excellent.”

 

Walt pushed down a small twinge of pride. “I’m seeing Jesse to um…” Shit he couldn’t very well say to Gus that it was to apologize for yelling at a group of _his_ students.

 

Gus looked at him expectantly.

 

“…lesson planning!” Walt blurted out. “Yeah I mean he’s new and asked if I could sit in on a class or two, maybe give him some pointers. He used to be my old student so I thought it would be…nice. Reliving the old days and all” he laughed unconvincingly.

 

Gus nodded approvingly. “I’m so glad to hear that. I know it’s been difficult for many of your colleagues to adapt to all the changes. I understand completely what it must be like having so many new people come in. You and Mr. Pinkman are an excellent example of collaboration.”

 

Walt inclined his head. “Yup. That’s…yep. Collaboration.”

 

“And here we are,” said Gus, pulling up in front of a door painted brightly in shades of orange and turquoise. He knocked twice.

 

It opened almost immediately. “About time – “ said Jesse, but stopped short, seeing Mr. Fring there.

 

Gus smiled pleasantly. “I found this one wandering, apparently for quite some time. He said he was on his way to your classroom.”

 

“Oh, right. Um, thanks eh?” said Jesse. Walt resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If this was how Jesse still generally addressed his immediate superiors it was incredible he’d even made it through college at all.

 

 “Not at all. Have an enjoyable class, Jesse. A pleasure to finally meet you face to face, Mr. White,” said Gus, and left them at the door. Just when he had gone around a corner, Walt realized he hadn’t thanked him for leading him through the subterranean maze he’d been caught inside.

 

Jesse reached out and grabbed his shoulder. “Jesus, it’s not _that_ hard to find,” he hissed, and shoved Walt through the door.

 

Walt found himself inside a large, circular, brightly lit room that seemed half pirate ship and half forest cabin. Windows took up a large portion of the walls but the rest were murals. Colourfully painted fish were swimming in front of cartoon evergreens, and elsewhere there were other scenes being depicted, like a large purple octopus that had gotten pricked by an underwater cactus. None of it made any sense but the overall effect was…pleasing.

 

Walt looked over to a busy looking chalkboard where the students had apparently been playing some kind of word game while they waited for him to show up.

 

Jesse clapped his hands together, getting both the kids’ and Walt’s attention.

 

“Alright kids, listen up. This is Mr. White and he has something to say to you. Isn’t that right, Mr. White?”

 

“Um, that’s right,” said Walt, feeling supremely uncomfortable under the frank stares of so many children sitting on the carpet before him. God they were so small. It was bizarre to him that they were even able to walk let alone form sentences this young. There was a reason he felt more comfortable teaching high school. He felt like he was going to accidentally step on one of these things.

 

“I’m here to…apologize for what happened yesterday,” he started awkwardly. They were all staring so _openly_. High school students tended to make more eye contact with their desks. “I said something that…wasn’t very nice,” he continued.

 

“You said to shut up,” supplied one girl helpfully.

 

“And you said the H-word,” whispered a little boy.

 

Walt looked over a bit helplessly at Jesse, who looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh at him.

 

“Um…yes. Yes that’s true. And people shouldn’t say…not-nice things, and I’m. Yes. Sorry about that.”

 

He looked at Jesse blankly to see if he was done. “Thank you, Mr. White,” said Jesse, coming over to stand beside him. “Do we accept Mr. White’s apology, kids?”

 

“We accept your apology, Mr. White,” they chanted in unison. Walt was surprised. He wasn’t aware Jesse even had enough manners to be able to pass on.

 

“Well, I guess I’ll be going then,” said Walt, rubbing his hands together and avoiding the gazes of the curious children.

 

“Oh wait, why don’t you stick around for a couple of minutes?” asked Jesse. He spoke in a lower voice to Walt: “They love having visitors it makes their day.”

 

Before Walt could respond Jesse had turned back to the room, saying, “What do you say, kids? Want to ask some questions to Mr. White?” He had a good teacher-voice, Walt noticed.

 

The kids’ hands all shot up.

 

“Um, yeah. You,” said Walt uncertainly, pointing to a student at random.

 

“What’s your favourite colour?”

 

Walt was taken aback. “I guess…green?” he said.

 

“But you’re wearing blue right now,” said another student.

 

“Blue is nice too?” said Walt feeling completely out of his depth.

 

“What do you like _more_ , blue or green?” asked another, insistently.

 

“I – green!” said Walt.

 

“Then why aren’t you wearing green?” one girl crossed her arms and looked at him suspiciously.

 

Walt rubbed his eyes. “I wish I were. Next question. You?”

 

A boy put down his hand, asking, “What’s your favourite number?”

 

“Pi,” answered Walt, and then immediately felt idiotic saying ‘pi’ to a group of kindergarteners. He walked over to the board and picked up some chalk. “It looks like this,” he said, as he drew 3.14 over a drawing of what looked like a shark.

 

The kids exploded. “That’s three numbers, you can only pick _one_!” he heard one of them say. Walt looked over at Jesse desperately.

 

“Ok guys, any other questions for Mr. White?” Jesse asked. As amusing as it was for him _personally_ to watch Mr. White floundering in front of a group of particularly intense children, it was probably less entertaining for them.

 

“Where did all your hair go?” asked one girl.

 

“Angela,” he said warningly.

 

“No it’s ok,” said Walt. He put down the chalk he’d been holding. “I was sick and it fell out.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jesse twist his neck to look at him in an alarmed realization, and then maybe sympathy? But he continued and said, “but now I just cut it because I like it.”

 

“Are you still sick?” asked another girl, cocking her head at him.

 

Walt smiled at her. “No, not anymore.”

 

“Are you a teacher?” asked one.

 

“Yes,” said Walt, slowly beginning to feel more comfortable with the rapid-fire interrogation. “In fact I used to teach Jesse here.”

 

The students all started talking at once at this bombshell news that their teacher had once gone to _school_. But one voice piped above the rest asking, “What do you teach?”

 

“Chemistry.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

Walt felt momentarily at a loss. “It’s kind of hard to explain but…well maybe I could show you?” He glanced at Jesse who nodded.

 

“Ok, if Mr. Jesse could get me some chalk dust, can one of you go find me a marker?” One girl shot off to the arts and crafts table and Jesse looked at him quizzically, but walked over to the chalkboard. Walt snagged him as he walked by and whispered, “Do you have a lighter?”

 

Jesse raised an eyebrow but shifted so that his students couldn’t see him reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cheap, drugstore lighter. “Don’t burn my class down,” he said warningly, and walked over the board where he began scooping chalk residue into his hands.

 

“Great, that’s _perfect_ , thank you,” Walt said to the girl who had brought him a pink magic marker. “Could you get me some scissors?” he asked another who immediately ran off and returned with a red pair, saying: “they cut the best.”

 

Walt stood there holding the lighter, marker, and scissors, and the intent gaze of thirty kindergarteners. He took the cap off the marker and made a few strategic cuts into its felt tip, and dug the scissors into its flimsy body, creating a slit up its side. He added some more incisions, hollowed it out and inspected his handiwork, putting down the scissors. Just then Jesse returned from the board.

 

“Is this enough?” he asked, holding out his cupped hands. Walt nodded and held out his own, and without needing to be told, Jesse carefully tipped the chalk dust into his palms, some of it puffing out gently.

 

“Ok,” said Walt. “So while it’s kind of hard to say what chemistry _is_ , what chemistry _does_ is something like – “ and he shook the chalk dust into the slit of the marker, put one end into his mouth, held Jesse’s lighter up to the tip, clicked it on, and _blew_ , sending a large burst of bright fluorescent pink flame shooting up at the ceiling. “ – this,” he finished.

 

There was a pause as the students’ jaws all dropped, and they immediately started cheering.

 

Walt looked over at Jesse whose face matched those of his delighted students.

 

“Is chemistry magic?” asked one girl in a hushed voice.

 

“Close enough,” said Walt, and Jesse had forgotten how completely different Mr. White looked when he smiled like that.

 

“Alright, well thank you, Mr. White!” said Jesse, and his students applauded enthusiastically.

 

He walked over to where Mr. White was standing. “You didn’t want to warn me to disable the smoke alarm first?” he muttered, but he was smiling.

 

“It’s a smokeless, gas-based flame,” shrugged Walt. “Harmless.”

 

Jesse looked back at his class. “Ok guys, you can do whatever you want I guess until recess. After that we’ll…I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out when we get there. Alright, go do your thing.” And the students ran off to various corners of the room.

 

He turned back to Mr. White to thank him for coming by but stopped when he saw that Walt was frowning slightly.

 

“What?” he asked, immediately tensing up. He remembered that look from class.

 

“After that we’ll…I don’t know?” asked Walt, echoing what Jesse had just told his students, in disbelief.

 

“Yeah, so?”

 

“What, you don’t have a plan for the day? An outline of activities, nothing like that?”

 

Jesse thought about it. “Not really, we just kind of do our thing.”

 

Walt was staring at him. “You mean to tell me none of this is planned? There are no units, no _nothing_?”

 

Jesse was taken aback by how suddenly the tone of Mr. White’s voice had shifted. “I know what a unit is and how to create one, I’m not an idiot,” he said. “But they’re kids, man. In kindergarten it’s about developing social skills not ‘units’” he said, somewhat derisively.

 

Walt couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “And you graduated from _education_? Jesus, Jesse, what about having class rules? One kid just went to the bathroom without asking and you didn’t even notice!”

 

Jesse looked at him like he was crazy. “I _saw_ her go, but I trust her!”

 

“Jesse you can’t _trust_ all of them. Look, is that kid supposed to be touching the stuff on your desk?”

 

“Hey,” said Jesse, going over to remove a figurine of a dragon out of a boy’s hands. “We don’t touch him, remember? Go finish your drawing.” And the kid scurried off.

 

Walt was waving his hand at the desk. “Look! That? There? Where was his punishment?”

 

“He didn’t _break_ it, geez, relax,” said Jesse.

 

“Yeah well you can’t just _tell_ him not to do something, he needs a consequence! Unless you give him a consequence and follow through with it, he’s gonna do that again and again. Guaranteed. It’s about having the same set of rules apply to the same set of students, and about not breaking them for any reason. Period.”

 

Jesse was feeling more and more defensive. “Oh right, I forgot how much you love _rules_. And what, rules matter more to you than students is that what you’re saying?”

 

“Rules are _good_ , even if you were apparently incapable of understanding one, Pinkman. They’re there for the students to feel secure.”

 

Jesse sputtered, “Secure? You just breathed _fire_ on my kids, dude!”

 

“ _Smokeless gas-based flame_ ” corrected Walt hotly, and then lowered his voice, remembering there were kids everywhere.

 

Walt suddenly thought back to the lie he’d told Gus, and how that the reason he was here today was to help Jesse lesson plan. Looking around at the chaos, he wished it had been the truth. And in a moment of impulse he turned to Jesse and said, “Look this is crazy, I can’t believe you have them under control at all. If you want I could come in sometime and show you how to run a classroom.”

 

Jesse who’d been battling a resentful expression this whole conversation was now openly scowling at him. “Show me how to run a classroom?” he asked incredulously, his good mood from before completely evaporated.

 

“Yeah,” said Walt obliviously. “Show you how a class works.”

 

“How about I show _you_ how a class works. Look. We’re in a class. There’s the door. Get out.”

 

Walt blinked at him. “You serious?”

 

“I’m completely serious, get out of here,” said Jesse, taking a step towards him, eyes blazing. “You think you can come in and tell me how to run _my_ classroom? Jesus you’ve got some nerve. Nah, you can forget it, man.”

 

Walt took stock of the kid standing in front of him and his face twisted into a sneer. “You know what, I was right about you, Pinkman. You didn’t want to learn anything in my class and you still don’t want to learn anything now. _Great_ attitude, as always,” he said, scoffing and turning to go.

 

“Yeah thanks for coming in. Thanks for the _apology_ ,” he called out sarcastically.

 

Once the door swung shut he looked around to make sure none of the kids were listening, and then under his breath added:

 

“ _Asshole_.”

 

***

 

“…and then he was all like, ‘I’ll show you how to run a classroom’ I mean come on, Jane, what a dickwad.”

 

They were sitting at their usual table in the cafeteria, and Jane was listening sympathetically to Jesse’s recounting of the story.

 

“Yeah for real. I think I might have met him the other day on the senior side actually,” said Jane, remembering the Walt who’d been in the staffroom when she was there. “Bald guy? Giant stick up his ass?”

 

“Ding ding ding, jackpot,” mumbled Jesse crossly.

 

“Sucks, dude,” she said, reaching over to pat him on the arm.

 

“Ugh it was just so…I don’t _know_ Jane, he just came waltzing in there and took one look and thinks he knows the first thing about how I teach. I mean nothing about ‘oh what a stimulating classroom design for kindergarten, any chance you painted that yourself since you apparently don’t give a shit?’ Or how about: ‘I noticed none of your students were fighting with each other, Jesse, wow that’s the kind of thing that _clearly_ comes from being totally unmotivated.’ I mean Jesus, Jane. It was criticize criticize criticize.”

 

Jane watched her friend slump down into his seat and pick at the bean salad she’d made him order instead of pizza. Jesse never seemed to realize what an incredible softy he was, which was why he was always so genuinely surprised every time he was hurt by something. Her eyes were gentle when she took in his dejection.

 

“Look, he sounds like an asshole, I get it,” she said, and took a breath before continuing. “But you don’t think maybe…”

 

Jesse raised an eyebrow at her. “Maybe what, Jane?”

 

“Look don’t take this the wrong way, I’ve _seen_ you teach, I know how good you are with them, you don’t have to prove it to me.” She bit her lip. “But you don’t think maybe he might have had a point?”

 

Jesse scowled. “Great. You too. Thanks, Jane,” and he shoved his plate to the side and began to get up.

 

“Jesse Pinkman, you sit down right now,” she said sharply. Jesse looked at her in surprise.

 

She sighed. “Sorry. It’s just you _know_ I think you’re awesome. And I’m _so_ proud of you for being so good with them. You know that so you don’t get to doubt that.”

 

Jesse looked a little guilty. “Sorry. Thanks, J.”

 

“You’re welcome, J,” she said brightly. “But look, remember when I came in the other day to do the watercolour demonstration? You have to admit they were a little…wild.”

 

Jesse sighed. If he was being brutally honest with himself he _knew_ he was a soft touch as far as any of his students were concerned. He knew discipline was important and he understood it in theory whenever his professors at university had talked about it. But he could never seem to bring himself to apply it to a group of kids who were, well, just _kids_. Who in their right mind would want to yell at a kid?

 

“Ok fine. I’ll control them more. Eventually. But my god, he was just being such a prick about it. He just _assumed_ I had no clue what I was doing.”

 

Jane took a sip from her water bottle. “Well maybe you should take him up on it.”

 

“Take him up on what?”

 

“You know,” she said, screwing the cap back on. “Lesson planning. Get some pointers. Just to brush up.”

 

“You’re kidding right,” Jesse groaned. “Yeah because I want to voluntarily spend any more time with the dude, yeah no thanks.”

 

Jane leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Jesse, when is your evaluation?”

 

“October,” he frowned at her. “Sometime in the middle I think.”

 

“Jesse you _can’t_ mess this one up. You’re getting a second chance and they’re not going to accept just being naturally talented anymore. They’re going to be looking for all the staple classroom management things all our textbooks never shut up about.”

 

Jesse bit back another sound of displeasure. He’d hated those textbooks, always feeling that his best classes were the ones he made up on his feet.

 

But he knew Jane was right. Those supervisors sat in the back of your classes with a checklist for literally every basic teaching technique you could think of. Eye contact, gestures, talking pace, you name it. All those things Jesse had naturally. While some of his classmates walked into their first classes stuttering and looking at the floor, Jesse immediately found the people in the room and _reached_ them.

 

But supervisors had always wanted to see his lesson plans for the evaluations in advance. Usually he banged out a generic plan on the computer, sent it in, and let his charm carry the rest.

 

It felt like ages since he’d written one, though. He wasn’t even sure he remembered all the steps. And if this final one was as important as Jane was making it out to be…then yeah. Jesse hadn’t felt nervous about it before but he was kind of starting to now.

 

He rubbed his eyes. “Ugh, you’re right, Jane. I’m screwed.”

 

“You’re not _screwed_ , Jesse,” she frowned at him. “But why not just go to this White guy and ask for some help? He sounds like he’s one of those stick-in-the-mud professors, right out of those classic teacher example scenarios. Someone who probably tattoos his lesson plans before doing them. Supervisors love that shit, they go crazy for the old-school classroom stuff. Just go in, get some of his techniques and get out.”

 

“Jane,” he whined. “I can’t go back, I totally shot him down before.”

 

“You will go back, Jesse Pinkman,” she said, fixing him with a look.

 

“I’m not going back.”

 

“Yes you are.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

***

 

“You’re back,” Walt looked up frowning, when he saw who had just walked in.

 

Jesse was standing there scowling. “Yup,” he said, sounding extremely put out about the fact.

 

“Well?”

 

Jesse reluctantly walked over to him. “I was thinking about what you said earlier.”

 

“Which part?” asked Walt, glancing at his watch. Classes were over, it was a Friday afternoon and he wanted to get out of there.

 

Jesse looked like he was trying to remember, but he ended up just shrugging and saying, “All of it.”

 

“Well I’m glad to have provided you with your thought for the year. Now if you’ll excuse me,” and he started to make his way towards the door. He stopped when he felt Jesse’s hand on his sleeve, and turned to glare at him. But he was surprised when he looked at Jesse’s face and saw not hostility there, but something else. Curiosity?

 

“Why do you always have to be like that?” asked Jesse. He wasn’t being snarky, he was really wondering.

 

“Like what?” frowned Walt, shaking him off.

 

“Like _that_ ,” said Jesse. “I don’t get you, man. It was the same thing ten years ago. You go and do this amazing thing in the classroom and then you have to go totally ruin it by being…that.”

 

“What, myself?” scoffed Walt.

 

“Um, no. That crazy dragon routine you’ve got going on there? What was that you were yelling to those two girls after class before I came in?” Jesse had been standing outside the door listening to Mr. White shout at a couple of girls for five minutes before he’d come in. “You know, the ones who wouldn’t stop talking? You yelled something at them, what was it...‘I’m the one who talks’, wasn’t that it? Jesus you need to chill.”

 

Walt glared at him, his displeasure at having a former student tell him to ‘chill’, written all over his face.

 

Jesse continued, ”Yeah like I was saying. Why can’t you just be Mr. White? The whole Scarface act there? It’s not ‘yourself’.”

 

“And how would you know?” asked Walt, scathingly.

 

“Because you’re probably the biggest nerd I’ve ever met. I mean come on. You’ll yell your head off at a student one minute. But then you’ll do things like stay on for an extra hour to tutor one who’s been struggling like you don’t even care how long it takes, so long as they get it.”

 

Walt blinked. He hadn’t expected that. Students tended to take the teacher’s time for granted, never noticing just how much _work_ was being put into getting them to learn. Pinkman apparently _had_ noticed though.

 

“Yeah you’re a total dork, man. Literally _no one_ gets that excited about chemistry, like none of my teachers ever cared that much. And when you’re not acting like a complete and total dick, I can tell you care, even if you don’t want anyone to realize.” Jesse looked down, suddenly feeling awkward.

 

Walt felt blindsided. Did his students really not think he cared? He was there every day working harder than any of them. Surely if they couldn’t realize that then it was their problem?

 

He cleared his throat. He still couldn’t get over having this hugely frustrating ex-student teaching alongside him. He hadn’t been able to pinpoint exactly what it was that had been rubbing him the wrong way about the whole situation.

 

But standing here now he thought he might be able to identify it. He was _offended_. It wasn’t even about Jesse, personally. It was about how he’d been teaching here for fifteen years, had worked to develop himself, and then all of a sudden, people like Jesse Pinkman could come waltzing in off the street, pick up a piece of chalk, and call themselves a teacher.

 

Jesse still looked embarrassed, but when he looked up at Walt, his earnest gaze cut right to Walt’s core.

 

Maybe Walt could deal with it.

 

“Jesse, was there something you wanted,” he said tiredly.

 

“Oh. Um, right. Look, I know you’re probably not down, but I was thinking about it and,” Jesse fidgeted. “I could probably use the help. You know. In the classroom.”

 

Walt stared at him for so long that Jesse wanted to squirm. “Forget about it,” Jesse muttered, and turned to go.

 

“Jesse,” he heard Mr. White say, just as he reached the other side of the classroom. He stopped with his hand on the door.

 

“We start next week.”

 

Jesse paused. And not looking back he nodded once, pushed the door open and walked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- And that's the end of Act I, folks! Hope you've all been entertained!  
> \- Since that makes 5 chapters in 5 days I think I'm going to use the rest of the week to chill since I've been feeling distinctly underslept at work lately haha  
> \- But stay tuned because I'll be back next week (if I can even wait that long lol) and posting at more or less the same rate!
> 
> (And ohmygod I hope you're excited for Act II because so far in my outline it's my favourite and I literally can't wait to write it haha)
> 
> \- And thanks again SO much for your kind words, coming home from work every afternoon and seeing them makes my day in such a big way! xox
> 
> P.S. I don't even care if "I'm the one who talks" was cracky as hell, one way or another it was going in there LOL


	6. Chapter 6

As it happened, Walt and Jesse weren’t able to meet up for lesson planning during the next school week at all. However much the entire concept of school was routine-based, that didn’t mean it couldn’t be one of the most unpredictable environments out there.

 

Walt saw his advanced chemistry class grow slightly larger, and had to shuffle around his lesson plans to accommodate his new students. Five kids who’d been in Mr. Boetticher’s class were apparently well above the board already for all the basic material so Walt and Gale had had to organize a transition. It wasn’t that Walt was annoyed that there were more people out there with an aptitude for chemistry, or anything like that. It was just such a _hassle_ to transfer information and work any grades that had already been given into Walt’s own records.

 

Jesse’s class wasn’t without its own interruptions as well, as he’d been dealing with a lot of absences that week. Kids that age tended to swap germs left right and center, and a bunch of his kids had been coming over slightly faint in class. Jesse had needed to organize trips to the nurse, as well as call their parents. Truth be told, Jesse hadn’t felt so hot that week either. He kept coming over all clammy and felt irritable in a way that he hadn’t since he was…well…still on drugs. He was careful not to let his being under the weather slip into class, though.

 

In any case, both Walt and Jesse had been up to their ears dealing with administration, and by the time Friday rolled around, Jesse realized they hadn’t met up at all. But that morning as he swung by the main front office to check his staff mailbox, he’d frowned in puzzlement when he saw a note. Usually the only things he ever got in his school-mail were endless official notifications from the board.

 

Opening it up he saw handwriting he hadn’t viewed in ten years:

 

_Been busy this week. Could do lesson planning tomorrow at my house if you’re in a hurry. W.W_

_­_ And underneath the fairly perfunctory sounding note was a phone number. Jesse groaned and pocketed the note.

 

“He wants to meet at his house. On a _Saturday_ , Jane!” said Jesse moodily, while they got themselves coffee from their break room. It was a very comfortable room but Jane had been right: the high school side had _way_ better coffee.

 

“You know what I’m going say, don’t you,” she said amiably.

 

“Is it ‘suck it up’, or something along those lines?”

 

“Something along those lines,” she agreed, grinning.

 

Jesse grumbled into his coffee. “It’s the _weekend_ though. Do you _know_ how tired I’ve been all week? Jesus I feel like I’ve been firing on all cylinders, nonstop. And I keep getting these headaches in class that aren’t helping.”

 

Jane patted his shoulder amiably. “Welcome to full-time teaching, sucker.”

 

“I know, I know,” he managed to laugh slightly. “It’s just I never realized how much I valued _sleep_ until now.”

 

They headed over to a couch in the corner with their steaming mugs.

 

“Well I hope you’re not thinking of ditching,” said Jane warningly. “I can’t believe he actually said he’d give you a hand.”

 

Jesse couldn’t believe it either. Especially not after how he’d almost lost his temper with Mr. White when he came to visit his class. And he also felt like maybe he’d been _too_ cocky with him on their recent encounters. He was probably pushing his luck, but my god it was so satisfying to not be a student anymore, and not have to worry about the consequences of talking back.

 

So he’d gone to Mr. White, hat in hand, asking for help in classroom management, which – though he didn’t like to admit – he did kind of need. This week the kids, however loveable he found them personally, were being _demons_. The first week of classes couldn’t have started better in Jesse’s opinion, and they’d been so quick to warm to him. But lately it had taken every ounce of his effort just to rein them in. He didn’t get it.

 

If Mr. White could help, Jesse would take whatever he could get. But that didn’t stop him from feeling like a Grade-A asshole for what he’d done.

 

He wasn’t _really_ expecting Mr. White to agree to some private tutoring, but he’d given it a shot anyways. He figured he go in there and butter him up. _Oh you were such a good teacher, Mr. White, oh you clearly cared so much about your students, you’re the best, now fucking help me out so I can pass my evaluation, please_. He hadn’t really expected it to work. No one caught onto bullshit faster than Mr. White, as least as far as Jesse could remember.

 

But how the hell was Jesse supposed to anticipate how soft Mr. White’s eyes had gone? Like it had been so long since anyone had thought to look at him, recognize him, that all it took were a few words from an old student he’d never particularly even _liked_ to reach him in the space of a few heartbeats and well-chosen words.

 

Jesse had hoped for it to be quick and painless. Maybe a few lunchtime meet-ups here and there. Get in, get some old-school teaching tips he could use to impress his supervisor, and get the hell out of dodge and never speak to him again.

 

And now here he was with an invitation from Mr. White in his pocket to meet over the weekend. And even though it hadn’t been expressed particularly warmly, it was still an invitation to his _house_.

 

With a groan Jesse also remembered what Mr. White had said to one of his students who’d asked about his lack of hair so completely innocently. _I was sick and it fell out_. Jesus, when had this happened? And Mr. White was still back at school, teaching already.

 

Jesse was going to hell.

 

“I don’t know, Jane. It just seems so…” he waved his hand around. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m taking advantage of him or something.”

 

“Didn’t you say he was a total asshole to you in high school?” Jane arched an eyebrow. “And it sounds like he kind of still is one, to be honest.”

 

Jesse mumbled something into his coffee.

 

“What was that?”

 

Jesse looked up, cheeks flushing slightly from what was probably the steam rising from his cup. “I said he was still my teacher, though.”

 

Jane put her cup down on the coffee table and grabbed Jesse’s chin, forcing him to face her. “That doesn’t mean he gets to just do whatever he wants. Some teachers start out nice and eventually become jerks, others don’t let it affect them at all. _I_ know which one of those you would be. But Jesse, if you don’t do everything you can to pass this evaluation, you’re not even going to get the chance to find out which kind you are.” Jane pulled back, and scared she had been too dramatic she added softly, “I just want good things to happen to you, Jesse. That’s all.”

 

Jesse smiled at his best friend. “I know you do,” he said, bumping his head against her shoulder.

 

 

***

 

From what Walt could remember about Jesse’s habits in class, when he bothered to show up at all it was usually about five minutes after the bell, his lateness accompanied by flashing eyes that seemed to say _try me_.

 

It was too well-timed to have been genuine, though. If class started at 8:45 then Jesse would be there at 8:50. If class was after lunch at 1:00, then 1:05 would have Jesse noisily pushing open the door. Walt was willing to bet that Jesse had done the same with all his other teachers. Hang around in the hall doing nothing, and then before Wynne’s five-minute grace period for tardiness (an idiotic concept that Walt would contest every year) was up, he could strut in and still _look_ like a rebel, but without the consequence of a detention. Which was pretty anti-rebellious in and of itself, but when had students ever let things like logic interfere with their need to look cool in front of their peers?

 

In any case, after they’d agreed to meet at 10:00, Walt was half-expecting Jesse to show up at his house at 10:05, just out of habit.

 

But Saturday morning it was 9:55 AM and his doorbell was being run by Jesse, who was not only early, but prepared with materials like notebooks, a Ziploc bag of pen and pencils like he was going into an exam, and a folder of some of his original lesson plans.

 

“Um. So. Hi,” said Jesse, biting his lip.

 

“Hey,” answered Walt, holding one hand on the door.

 

They both stared at each other, neither seeming like they knew what to say. Jesse was acutely aware of the weirdness in being on his former teacher’s front step. University was the first time he’d been on good terms with any teachers in his life. The first time he’d gone to an end-of-semester party at one of their houses he’d almost died of shock. A teacher? Drinking with their students? Not that Jesse had been participating in the drinking but it still felt pretty novel. Especially the concept of a teacher talking to you like you were a peer of theirs. Jesse couldn’t get over it. Jane had been spot-on when she’d told him university was _way_ more civilized than high school.

 

But high school was a whole other kettle of fish and he never imagined back in Mr. White’s class that he’d ever have a reason to go to his house, let alone that he’d accept the invitation.

 

Walt wasn’t much more comfortable. He’d been flattered enough by Jesse’s asking for help, that writing the note to come over had seemed, at the time, like just the thing to do. But standing there and looking at Jesse he was suddenly struck by the fact that he’d literally never invited another teacher over on the weekend for any reason whatsoever. And how here was Jesse Pinkman of all people, on his doorstep, arms full of teaching materials.

 

There was a moment of awkwardness until finally Walt nodded at all the binders that Jesse was barely managing to hang onto.

 

“Did you rob a Staples this morning or something?”

 

Jesse blinked and then bobbed his head seriously.

 

“Last night actually.”

 

Walt made a thoughtful sound. “I did expect petty theft from you somewhere down the line. Just not for back-to-school supplies.”

 

Jesse looked at him and Walt wondered for a second if he’d maybe crossed a line. But then Jesse just snorted and shoved some of them towards Walt saying, “And I expected someone to offer to help with these five minutes ago, not stand there staring. Let’s go, daylight’s a’wasting, man!”

 

Walt accepted some of the pile and had to work to keep a reluctant grin off his face, the momentary awkwardness from before being more or less done away with.

 

Jesse followed him into the house and over to the kitchen table. When Jesse saw that Walt had cleared a space for them to work, anticipating his arrival, Jesse fought down a fresh wave of guilt.

 

 _You’re not using him, he offered to help first_ , Jesse mentally reminded himself. He still felt a bit bad though.

 

He dropped his stack of folders onto the table and pulled out a chair. He was halfway into it when a tall blonde woman came into the kitchen and he immediately stood up.

 

Skyler looked from Walt to this new arrival in his jeans and rock t-shirt, clearly amused.

 

“You must be Jesse.”

 

“Oh um, yeah. Hi Mrs. White,” he said, suddenly feeling nervous.

 

She said, “It’s Skyler” at the same time as Walt said “Ms. Lambert.” Jesse stared between them looking like a deer in the headlights until Skyler smiled and said, “Just call me Skyler, Jesse. It’s nice to meet you.”

 

“Yeah it’s. Nice to meet you too,” he said, shuffling his feet. Just then Skyler leaned down and put a baby carrier that Jesse hadn’t noticed onto the counter. Jesse’s previously panicked eyes lit up.

 

“Yo, who’s this?” he asked, grinning at Mr. White. He walked over to what had to be the world’s cutest baby and immediately covered his face, pulling his hands back to reveal a series of increasingly bizarre expressions. Holly stared at him deadpan but Jesse wasn’t deterred and said, “Helloooo,” drawing out the word and repeating it in various pitches, continuing to make faces.

 

Skyler looked at Walt as if to say _Who is this guy again?_ Walt rolled his eyes and shrugged, and then cleared his throat.

 

“Whenever you’re ready, Jesse.”

 

Jesse blushed and shot back.

 

“Well we’re off to meet Marie for a girls’ day. You boys have fun. And don’t work too hard, it’s a Saturday.” She boosted Holly’s carrier onto her shoulder. “Junior’s still asleep. If he gets out of bed before 1:00, call me and I’ll come back with a news crew.”

 

Walt chuckled. “See you, honey.”

 

For a moment Walt and Skyler weaved around each other, their former marriage’s habit of leaving with a kiss still firmly ingrained. Finally Walt leaned in to kiss her cheek and Skyler smiled once more at Jesse before leaving.

 

Jesse and Walt exchanged a glance and Jesse threw up his hands. “Not even gonna ask.”

 

Walt narrowed his eyes slightly. “Mmm hmm,” he mumbled skeptically, but he didn’t really look mad.

 

They sat down at the kitchen table and Walt started opening some folders while Jesse took out a notebook and pen.

 

“So how was your week?” asked Walt, just to fill the silence while they each arranged their materials.

 

“Oh you know…fine, man,” said Jesse, wondering if he looked as tired as he felt. When Mr. White raised an eyebrow at him he knew that he must.

 

“Ok fine, it was awful,” Jesse blurted out. “Jeez I don’t get it! Last week they were like a dream, I could ask them to do anything and they’d do it, no fuss. This week…oh my god I love them but…Jesus what a bunch of three-and-a-half foot _nightmares_.”

 

He expected Mr. White to maybe sneer at him, or give him some version of _what did I tell you_. What he didn’t expect was for him to lean back and chuckle softly to himself, eyes off to one side like he was reminiscing.

 

“I remember my first year of teaching. God it was awful,” said Walt, almost fondly. Jesse looked at him in surprise.

 

“What? It’s true. By the time Halloween rolled around I was ready to hang it up for good.”

 

Jesse put his pen down. “Why, what happened?”

 

“What _didn’t_ happen is more like it,” said Walt with nostalgic smile. “I mean there was no one specific thing I suppose. Just everything altogether. You should have seen me back then, my god I could barely keep a class together long enough to actually teach them anything at all.”

 

Walt saw Jesse looking at him, amazement in his eyes. “What?” Walt asked.

 

“Nothing it’s just…I can’t picture you as anything but a total hardass.”

 

Mr. White’s smile became a bit more cynical. “Well that’s just it. No one starts teaching wanting to be the teacher who’s the battle-axe.” He turned to Jesse. “Let me guess. You want your students to like you, don’t you?”

 

“Um, _duh_ ,” said Jesse, looking at him like he was an idiot.

 

But Mr. White just nodded like he’d expected the reaction. “Well there’s your first mistake right there. Everyone starts out wanting to be liked so they slack a little on the discipline. ‘I’ll be the cool teacher’ or ‘I’ll be so nice that they’ll do anything for me’ and that kind of thing. When really, if you want your students to keep liking you, then that’s maybe the worst thing you can do.”

 

“I don’t get it,” said Jesse.

 

“You have to start tough. It’s the best chance you have of getting them on your side.”

 

Jesse was skeptical. “Dude that makes literally no sense.”

 

“I know it doesn’t sound like it but trust me. _Every_ teacher you’ve ever had wants to start out being well liked. So they maybe bend the rules a bit, go easy on their students…all to get them to like them. But then you’re just giving them room to walk all over you later in the year. And then suddenly it’s Christmas break, everyone hates each other, the classes have completely fallen apart, and you can’t control them because you didn’t set the ground rules from the beginning.”

 

Jesse sat silently, thinking about it, and Mr. White continued. “Even if you don’t see yourself becoming a drill sergeant later on, you still have to start out stricter than you’d normally be. They might not like you. But they will respect you for it. Honestly, it doesn’t take much to get a kid to like you, but it’s harder to get their respect. If you get that at the beginning then don’t worry if they don’t think you’re ‘cool’. At least they’ll respect you, and you’ll still have the option of being cool later down the line. I’m not saying that’s _me_ ,” he added quickly, and Jesse had to smile since yeah, “cool teacher” had never really applied to Mr. White. “But they know when they come in they’re learning something and that I’m not going to let them do anything less. It’s what we owe them.”

 

Jesse twiddled his pen between his fingers. He hadn’t thought about it that way, but somehow Mr. White had hit the nail on the head about what he’d been going for in his classroom.

 

“I guess I can kinda see it…it just feels like it shouldn’t make sense doing it that way.”

 

Mr. White smiled. “I know. But believe me, everyone’s been there. They can tell you all the theory they want in your classes, but most of what you learn about teaching only comes from actually being on the job. So don’t worry about getting it all at once,” he said kindly.

 

Jesse was quiet for so long that Walt asked, “What?”

 

“Nothing,” he said, and he looked at Mr. White consideringly. “You’re just not the way I remember you from class, like at _all_.” And then it was Walt’s turn to be silent.

 

Just then there was a loud buzzing in the room and Walt jumped. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. He read something on it and frowned. He didn’t look pleased. Jesse looked at him questioningly and Walt just snapped it shut.

 

“It’s nothing. Should we get started?” he asked, like he hadn’t already just given Jesse enough to mull over for the rest of the semester. “I figured we’d start with the basics for how to space out a lesson plan for the class, and then go into some more classroom management techniques if they come up…”

 

They fell into a natural rhythm. Jesse constantly interrupted to ask questions or point out when he felt something Walt said didn’t make sense. Mr. White was patient in a way he hadn’t been when Jesse was in high school. But then again, Jesse had to admit to himself that he was certainly a much better student now than he’d been back then.

 

Walt was honestly surprised by Jesse. And ‘surprised’ was putting it mildly. He was downright shocked. He still wasn’t sure why he’d suggested and then later agreed to this meet. He was expecting a fruitless throwback to Jesse’s high school days, in which he would have to drill basic concepts into Jesse’s head that would end in nothing but frustration.

 

But this Jesse Pinkman turned out to be someone who was more than willing to engage in discussions about pedagogy. Forget ‘willing,’ Jesse was downright eager. He kept re-examining notions that Walt would bring up, and share what he thought about them based on previous classroom experiences he’d had, whether they were from when he was teaching or from when he was still a student.

 

As much as Walt was loath to admit it, this was not the Jesse Pinkman he’d taught in high school. Oh sure he was still quick to give attitude, got off track easily, and couldn’t seem to let anything Walt said go without a spirited argument of his own. But there was a maturity there now. So many students who’d slipped through the cracks in high school often found that they flourished in the relative freedom that college provided…that is if they even managed to make it that far. Walt suspected this was the case for Jesse, although he was still shocked by it.

 

They worked tirelessly through the morning and straight into the afternoon. It turned out Jesse _was_ familiar with the spacing of a lesson plan. He just didn’t know the steps by name, or always remember to do them. When Walt mentioned how you start with the warm-up, Jesse had looked at him panicked.

 

“What’s the warm-up?”

 

“You know, just the basic housewarming things you do in the first five minutes of class. Taking attendance, asking everyone how they’re doing, introducing what you’ll be covering later in the class…just so that they have some time to settle into the atmosphere and you’re not jumping right into the deep end of the material.”

 

Jesse had relaxed and had given him a _duh_ look. “Of course I know that’s the warm-up,” he said scathingly, before hunching over his notebook and scribbling: “Warm up: remember to do this EVERY time. DON’T FORGET.” Walt smiled when Jesse added a third underline to this zealous reminder.

 

They’d moved onto the concept of the “Hook.”

 

“Maybe the most important part of any lesson,” said Walt. “If you can find just _one_ gripping way of getting their interest in the topic, then your work is half done for you.”

 

Jesse had proven himself to be more than adept at this concept. He seemed to know every movie under the sun that had come out in the past 50 years. Walt would throw out a hypothetical lesson idea, and ask Jesse how he’d get a student’s interest in it.

 

“Oh I saw this _awesome_ Youtube video once,” he’d say, and then talk animatedly about how he’d get them to watch a video of something pop culture related that they’d be familiar with and feel connected to, that had something to do with the lesson and would wake them up more than a textbook. Jesse was at the enviable stage where he was going into teaching but coming right from school himself. He was still close enough to the student mentality that he was able to put himself into a student’s shoes more easily than Walt, throwing out ideas that had Walt genuinely impressed.

 

Of course with Walt being a high school teacher and Jesse teaching kindergarten, two completely different age groups, they did run into some friction. Jesse would have to say, “Are you kidding me, that would never work” to certain concepts Walt would bring up. And in turn, Walt would roll his eyes when Jesse suggested something impossible, even though it might have been something _he_ only learned wasn’t feasible in the classroom after five years on the job.

 

So when it got right down to it, Walt wasn’t expecting his Saturday that he’d given up in order to do a good deed (that he honestly expected to drag) to be quite so…vital. He found himself slowly feeling energized by Jesse’s fervent chatter and relentless string of ideas. If Jesse had this much enthusiasm with his professors in college, it was no small wonder that he was considered education’s “golden boy”, as he’d overheard Jane say when she’d visited the high school staffroom. He actually found himself involved in the conversation in a way he hadn’t felt since _he_ was in college himself, when everything was new and exciting and he and Elliot would stay up for marathon study sessions where’d they discuss and theorize everything under the sun, sometimes right up until the next morning’s class.

 

Which is why Walt was amazed when he looked at the clock and saw that it was 3:00 PM, and realized they’d been working for five hours straight without any breaks. It had felt like five minutes.

 

Walt leaned back and stretched and Jesse closed the notebook he’d been scribbling in. It was the second one he’d filled since that morning. He didn’t realize how cramped his wrist felt, but somehow he didn’t feel tired at all.

 

Junior chose that moment to come into the kitchen, yawning hugely.

 

“Praise the lord, it’s a miracle. It lives!” said Walt. Junior ignored his dad and opened the fridge, taking out a carton of orange juice. He looked so dead that Walt didn’t have the heart to tell him to get a glass for it. After he’d chugged some, his eyes lost that glazed look and he realized that they had a visitor.

 

Jesse swung his head between Mr. White and the kid he’d seen going into his classroom the other week. “I didn’t know this was your son!”

 

“Jesse, Walt Jr., Walt Jr., this is Jesse,” said Walt, waving a hand between them.

 

“Hey!” said Jesse laughing. “How’s it going, man?” He was as carelessly friendly as he’d been when Walt had overheard them talking into the corridor, and Jesse had made his son look just like any normal teenage boy in high school.

 

“I’m – “ Junior yawned again. “- good.” He popped some bread into the toaster and leaned against the counter as if he were planning on falling back asleep right there.

 

“That was quite a sleep-in, young man,” said Walt to his son. “You haven’t exactly left yourself a lot of time for homework. _Some_ of us have been accomplishing things over here.”

 

Junior groaned. “Dad you are literally the _only_ teacher who gives homework the first week back.”

 

Jesse grinned at Walt. “You do? Colour me shocked.” When Walt reached over to smack him with a folder it was completely instinctual. He didn’t know why he knew that it would make Jesse just laugh, but he did.

 

“Anyways, I’m going back to my room,” said Junior, grabbing his toast that had just popped, and haphazardly spread peanut butter on it. “Good to see you, Jesse.”

 

“Yeah you too,” said Jesse. He then got a lingering whiff of the peanut butter mixed with hot toast and his stomach grumbled embarrassingly loudly. Walt realized he was famished at the same time.

 

“That’s enough for one day,” said Walt, slamming his binder shut. “Get your stuff. Let’s go.”

 

He stood up and headed towards the front door. Jesse scrambled to his feet, sweeping his material into a pile. “Go where?”

 

Walt just walked out the door. “You coming?”

 

 

***

 

 

Walt and Jesse sat across from each other at the Denny’s that was fifteen minutes away from Walt’s house. For the first few minutes they were both intent on scarfing down their meals to take the edge off. But by the time they’d slowed down a bit there was a silence while they tried to look for something to say to each other that _wasn’t_ about lesson planning.

 

Walt’s phone buzzed again and he made an irritated noise. He opened and shut it without even looking at the message.

 

Jesse raised his eyebrows and lifted his chin at the phone. “Your wife?”

 

“Ex-wife,” Walt corrected. “And no, definitely not.”

 

Jesse took a deep pull of his coffee. “Yeah what’s up with that? You two still living together?” He speared about six hash browns onto his fork and ate them all at once like some kind of shish kebab.

 

He was surprised when Walt didn’t seem offended by the personal nature of the question, not that he’d been trying to pry. But Walt just sighed and said, “Yep. We both felt it would be best for the kids. You just saw us at a good point, but believe me we were _not_ this civil when we first separated.”

 

Jesse put his fork down. “Was this before or after the…” he ran a hand over his own head, miming giving himself a buzz cut. “…cancer?”

 

“After,” said Walt tiredly. He was surprised but also somewhat complimented to see Jesse’s eyes flash disapprovingly at the idea of Skyler leaving him because he’d had cancer. “We didn’t separate because of the cancer, Jesse. I was…not myself there for a while. She didn’t deserve me like that. It wasn’t who she married.”

 

Jesse’s face softened somewhat but he was still glowering. “Doesn’t matter. When that happens to someone you stick by them.”

 

He looked down at his plate, apparently whole-heartedly focusing on his waffles, but Walt could see his mind was elsewhere

 

“Who was it?” he asked gently.

 

Jesse swallowed a mouthful of food. “My aunt,” he mumbled, eyes cast downwards. Walt knew without asking that she hadn’t been as lucky as him.

 

He didn’t know if he should say sorry, whether it would help or not. He settled for pushing the maple syrup across the table towards Jesse. Jesse grabbed it and grinned, pouring it all over his breakfast. How Jesse and his son managed to stay so skinny with eating habits like that, Walt had no idea.

 

He was about to turn back to his own breakfast when he heard a voice call out, “Walt! Walt is that you?”

 

Walt closed his eyes briefly. “Don’t look,” he muttered to Jesse who was already twisting his head around at the figure of a slightly frazzled looking Gale Boetticher, who was hurrying over towards their booth.

 

“Well aren’t you a sight on the weekends, I thought that was you!” said Gale cheerily.

 

“Gale,” nodded Walt, taking a sip of his coffee.

 

Gale turned to Jesse, who had been watching Walt’s attempts to avoid eye-contact with this person with a vague sense of amusement. “And you are…?”

 

“Jesse,” said Jesse, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Jesse Pinkman.”

 

“How do you two know each other?” asked Gale interestedly.

 

“We’re co-workers,” said Jesse smirking at Walt. Walt just rolled his eyes.

 

“Jesse teaches at Wynne as well, Gale,” said Walt.

 

Gale’s smile wiped off his face. “Teaching what? How come we haven’t met?”

 

“I’m on the new elementary side,” Jesse supplied, before Walt could.

 

“So you’ve only just started then,” said Gale, devoid of emotion, looking back and forth between Jesse and Walt and their almost empty plates.

 

“Yep, two weeks now,” said Jesse cheerily, oblivious to Gale’s peeved expression.

 

“And you’re already getting lunch together, that’s…nice,” said Gale, face twitching in irritation.

 

Walt suddenly frowned at Gale. “What are you doing here, Gale, aren’t you vegan? I didn’t think Denny’s had a vegan option…?”

 

“The smoothies!” said Gale, perking up. “You should try the protein smoothies although of course I can’t get the ones with whey protein, but they still have some _excellent_ options, some of which I’ve found can be improved with stalks of my own house plants – “

 

“Number 7, your order is up!” called a voice from the counter.

 

“That’s me,” said Gale. “I just came to get takeout, I’m in such an unbelievable rush otherwise I’d join you.” Jesse had to stuff his knuckles into his mouth at the minute spasm that came over Mr. White’s face, as Gale ran to fetch his smoothie. It was a shade of green that Jesse was sure Mr. White didn’t have in mind when he’d told Jesse’s class that it was his favourite colour.

 

“Well ciao, Walt, see you Monday!” said Gale on his way back across the restaurant. “Mr. Pinkman,” he added, considerably less warmly.

 

Jesse watched him go with a fascinated expression. He waited until the Denny’s door swung shut before swiveling back to face Mr. White and ask, “What’s the ‘unbelievable rush’? Does a houseplant need CPR?”

 

Walt actually _choked_ and had to cough into his napkin. A slow grin spread over Jesse’s face as he watched Mr. White try to compose himself.

 

“Wouldn’t surprise me, Jesse. Wouldn’t surprise me.”

 

They quickly finished their meals, time passing by much faster than it had when they’d started eating, as they gossiped about their other co-workers, even if they weren’t familiar with everyone on the other’s staff. They each threw down some money on the table before leaving the restaurant to get back into Walt’s Aztek, which they’d used to drive there.

 

Walt pulled back into the driveway of the White residence, and helped Jesse move his materials to Jesse’s own car, without being asked.

 

After he’d closed the trunk he glanced over at Jesse who was leaning against the car with a troubled expression. Walt looked at him questioningly.

 

“Mr. White…” Jesse began and stopped to chew a nail. He seemed preoccupied about something. Looking back at Mr. White he lifted his chin at his bald head and asked, “It’s not coming back, is it?” He sounded for all the world like a child. Walt knew he wasn't asking about the hair.

 

Walt just shook his head. “It’s not coming back, Jesse.”

 

Jesse nodded. “Good, that’s…good.”

 

Walt had to smile a bit. He put his hands in his pocket and looked off to the side for a moment. Looking back at Jesse he quirked an eyebrow at him. “Again sometime?”

 

 “That would be great,” said Jesse enthusiastically, and he meant it too. He had quite forgotten his original plan of just getting in to get some useful material, and get out without ever having to talk to Mr. White again. He was shocked but…it had kind of been fun. It had felt like debating with his college classmates in the faculty cafeteria between classes, except that Mr. White was smarter than all of them put together, which was refreshing. And Mr. White actually _got_ his jokes, even if he didn’t necessarily find them funny.

 

“Alright, well,” Walt put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “I’ll see you sometime next week then.”

 

“Yeah, man,” said Jesse, climbing into his car. “And thanks again. Later.”

 

Walt watched Jesse peel away down the street. He was just turning to go back inside when he felt his phone go off again. He scowled but was resigned to answering it. “Seth” had been texting him all day with a string of problems he’d run into in the lab. Walt had ignored them while he’d been with Jesse but he’d have to respond now. He went inside to hunt for his notebook in which he kept all the necessary formulas, and mentally prepared for another online mentoring session with the probably now-panicked Seth.

 

Walt went over to the table, and as he got his laptop and papers together he took stock of the mess he and Jesse had made in their brainstorming session. He was still reeling from how invigorating the whole process had been. It was in direct contrast to plodding through steps one-by-one online with Seth. Walt had expected to constantly have to reel Jesse in to be on his level. Instead, half the time it had been Jesse who was the one casting the line.

 

As Walt organized himself he thought back over the day. He couldn’t believe it, but despite the slight damper that was put on his mood by receiving texts from his other “job,” he was forced to admit that, well…

 

…it had sort of been a really nice day.


	7. Chapter 7

The air turned crisp as September gradually bled into October. The sun was still beating down on the citizens of Albuquerque but not as intently as before. The robustness of summer was long gone as everything became slightly cooler, and J. P. Wynne Senior and Junior were both firmly into their fall terms.

 

Normally there was a point in the fall when time seemed to slow down in a school. Classes no longer had that “back to school” flavor to them, and everyone was officially settled into the semester. This was incidentally around the same time both students and teachers started counting the days until winter break.

 

For Walter White, time at school had never gone by faster. But then again, he’d never worked with Jesse Pinkman before.

 

It was beyond belief. It made no sense in the world that Walt occupied. And the world that Walt occupied was one where he was receiving side-payments for being an online “meth consultant.”

 

But somehow even _that_ made less sense than the moment when Walt realized - as he was organizing his next class so he could go meet Jesse during a shared break -  that ever since they’d first met at his house to go over basic lesson planning techniques, he’d been spending almost every single one of his breaks with Jesse. Voluntarily.

 

He’d almost dropped an entire box of chalk when he’d realized it.

 

It had kind of snuck up on him in a way. First it had been occasionally dropping by Jesse’s class to ask how a particular teaching tip had gone over. Then it had been Jesse running into _Walt’s_ classroom on a break, asking what Walt thought about a certain idea he’d just come up with. Jesse would then run back out, presumably to implement it. Or not. It usually depended on what Walt would tell him, although he’d never leave without arguing first, apparently just for the fun of it.

 

Then there’d been the time when they’d poured over a lesson plan that Jesse had placed on Walt’s desk. When an hour had gone by, Jesse had looked up frowning.

 

“Dude, why are we even still doing this here, don’t you ever leave?”

 

And then he’d dragged Walt out of the class, practically demanding that Walt show him the staffroom with the coffee that Jane had told him about, so they could work there instead.

 

Or there was the time when one of Jesse’s students had shyly asked if “the bald man could come do a magic trick again.” Jesse had grinned all the way over to Mr. White’s classroom to ask him just that.

 

It wasn’t only Walt that showed up in Jesse’s class from time to time. Once Walt had been trying to explain a teaching technique he’d use sometimes, which Jesse hadn’t really been grasping.

 

“Why don’t you swing by the class tomorrow? Grab an out-of-the-way seat and watch for a while?”

 

Jesse had grinned. “Sitting in the back of Mr. White’s class! It’ll be like I never left.”

 

Walt had balled up a piece of notepaper and launched it at him.

 

So Jesse had come by to watch, and had indeed sat in the back. While it was strange having him there at first, Walt had slowly forgotten his presence and got lost in the lesson he was teaching. At one point when he’d turned back from the board to face the class, and had seen Jesse Pinkman sitting there in the same spot he’d had back when he was in Walt’s class, Walt had had such a strong sense of déjà vu that he’d practically fainted right there.

 

But Jesse Pinkman’s face in high school had never been so full of focused wonder as that of the young man in his class now, who was sitting there wide-eyed as he watched Walt teach.

 

Sometime after his tenth year at Wynne, Walt had officially decided he knew everything the place had to offer. It was as much a part of his life as his family, and, like his family, eventually he’d began to take it for granted.

 

But driving into work lately…it had kind of felt like starting a new job. Better, since it was one he knew how to do and he wasn’t climbing any ladders.

 

But _something_ about the place had changed. Maybe it was the new elementary side shaking things up. Maybe it was the students Walt had this year, a larger array of keeners than he normally had. Maybe it was the different staffs gradually becoming acquainted with each other.

 

Or maybe what had changed was Walt.

 

He felt like he’d never seen so much of his school before. He was generally well-liked among the other members of the staff, but he couldn’t really say that any of them were his _friends_. So while he’d go to the staffroom to catch up now and then, lunch was mostly taken at his desk between planning out classes.

 

But he didn’t think he’d spoken to some co-workers as much in five years, as he had in just of few weeks of Jesse hauling him out of his classroom and asking him to show him different areas of the school, or introduce him to people. It soon became common for them to appear everywhere together. Mr. White and the kindergarten teacher could be seen wandering the halls, making guest appearances in each other’s classrooms or grabbing lunch in either the senior or junior cafeteria.

 

Once Walt had joined Jesse and Jane for lunch. Jesse didn’t know what to expect from that introduction. But it wasn’t both of them ganging up on his eating habits, confiscating his French fries and dividing them between themselves, “for your health, Jesse,” comparing their more troublesome students, and beginning a spirited debate about nature vs. nurture and basically ignoring Jesse completely. Jesse had sat scowling and feeling neglected, until eventually Walt took pity on him, and slid half of the French fries he’d _stolen_ back over to Jesse, rolling his eyes cartoonishly at Jane in the process.

 

“Jesus he’s a delicate one, isn’t he?” and milk had shot out of Jane’s nose. Some more teachers had joined them later and Walt held court at their table, telling them stories about when their colleague had been in _his_ class, making them roar with laughter. He’d kicked Jesse under the table though, so Jesse hadn’t been offended.

 

It wasn’t just other teachers that Walt was different with. His students had picked up on a change in their usually no-nonsense chemistry teacher as well. He was still a total hardass and gave more homework than any other teacher at Wynne. But something about the charm that Jesse displayed in the classes Walt had watched was infectious, and Walt’s classes became slightly more lighthearted. Students who he’d reamed out earlier in the semester were tentatively raising their hands again to participate. Attendance went by faster since the students were keener to start.

 

And it wasn’t just Jesse’s warm classroom attitude that Walt was slowly picking up. Parts of his vocabulary were slipping to Walt’s lessons as well. When Walt had – in all seriousness – agreed with a student’s point by saying he was “down” with her thinking, forty pairs of gobsmacked eyes had swung around to Walt in amazement, before he realized what he’d said.

 

But apparently that’s what happens when the person you saw more than anyone else throughout the course of the day was Jesse Pinkman. And not just during the school day too. Once Jesse had called with a quick question about whether the school assembly would be held _this_ Thursday or next week, since his internet was down and he couldn’t reach Jane. They’d ended up just mindlessly chatting until Walt realized they’d been on the phone for over two hours and needed to get to sleep.

 

It was irrelevant since they usually met for coffee in Walt’s staffroom every morning anyways, and the next day they just continued the conversation there.

 

Just because they saw each other frequently _at_ school didn’t mean that they didn’t occasionally meet up at Mr. White’s house over the weekend either, for marathon lesson planning sessions like the one they’d had when semester started.

 

Walt would laugh later on, remembering how Jesse had shuffled awkwardly on his doorstep that first meeting, and Walt hadn’t known what to say. Because now more often than not, Jesse would usually just barge right in without knocking and go straight to the fridge before even acknowledging Walt’s presence. Once Walt had overslept and come downstairs to the sight of Jesse actually cooking breakfast in _his_ kitchen with _his_ utensils. Walt had just rolled his eyes and motioned for Jesse to move over so he could take down some plates.

 

It had been bizarrely initiated, and Walt almost didn’t notice it creeping up on him, but the fact remained that Jesse had slowly become something of…a friend.

 

Walt – despite his disbelief – was nonetheless taking it in stride. It helped that his usual emails from his anonymous online contact had more or less calmed down, and Walt’s chemistry counseling was less and less needed. It didn’t matter to Walt, he was still getting regular payments. Not as much as he used to. But enough to buy a miniature lab set for Jesse’s classroom.

 

Jesse’s face had been priceless anyways.

 

But if Walt was adapting to the odd alliance he and Jesse had struck up, Jesse was baffled by it. Forget baffled, Jesse was in straight up _shock_.

 

It honestly wasn’t even just because Mr. White used to be his old teacher. That aspect really just felt like more of an anecdote at this point. And besides, no matter how good or horrible a teacher is, do you really remember your old high school teachers that well, unless they were for homeroom? Like most of his high school experience, Mr. White’s classes were more a series of fleeting images, with a few stand-alone moments.

 

It was because for the first time since Jane, Jesse felt like he actually had something close to, well, a friend in Mr. White.

 

Go figure.

 

Not that Jesse wasn’t a friendly person in general. He had his friends during high school. These were the ones he’d mostly rolled with in his drug days. He still saw the gang from time to time, just to catch up, play some rock band, chill in someone’s basement. But Jesse was always careful to leave early. Not that he was that nervous about his sobriety. Addiction was always a struggle but even so, Jesse was reasonably confident in his ability to say no at this point in his life.

 

But it didn’t hurt to be cautious. As entertaining as it sometimes was to see the gang, it wasn’t worth risking if there was the chance that someone would pull out some “party favors” later on. And besides, Jesse and his old friends were pretty different people now. It was nice to see them, but he didn’t really need to. He wondered what they’d think about how much he hung out with Mr. White.

 

Jane had been the first friend he felt he’d actually _made_ , not just been flung together with through circumstances like classroom seating arrangements. They’d both been coming from broken places and found various chinks to patch up in each other. Their friendship had felt almost like a unit: Jesse and Jane, two against the rest of the ugly world.

 

It wasn’t until college that Jesse had actually learned what it was like to meet new people, casually socialize with them, and form the kinds of friendships that started in the classroom, and were accompanied by the occasional get-togethers at the bars around town.

 

Jesse had gotten along with the people in his program, but they still felt so much younger than him. Jesse was something of an oddity in his faculty. Already over twenty-one, but noticeably unwilling to participate in the kind of free-wheeling behavior the rest of his classmates were ecstatic to be participating in. While his peers were throwing themselves wholeheartedly into the college scene, finally free from the restrictions of their parents, Jesse had been more than willing to act as the designated driver.

 

So Jesse had felt a bit like the odd one out. He still had Jane though. Jesse and Jane, two peas in a similarly damaged pod.

 

That’s why it felt so strange to be becoming friends with another _guy_ , and since the education program was mostly comprised of young women, this was something Jesse hadn’t experienced since his old crew. Although Mr. White wasn’t so much a ‘guy’ as he was a completely grown man, and one who was old enough to be Jesse’s father.

 

Jesse’s own father hadn’t exactly left him with a very good perspective on men of that age. It was probably why Jesse had tended to automatically resent any male teachers he’d had, while at the same time, hoping for their approval. That’s partly why it was so strange to him how _easily_ he got along with Mr. White. They still argued all the time, but more for sport than anything else.

 

It helped that Mr. White, when you were looking closely, was actually _extremely_ funny, holy shit. Had he been that funny when Jesse was in his class? He honestly couldn’t remember. But he doubted that back then he would have picked up on the dry humour that Mr. White tended to slip into any given situation.

 

Whatever the situation was, not a day went by when Mr. White didn’t have Jesse in _stitches_ over something he’d said. The worst was when they were in public, such as in the staffroom. Mr. White would keep a commentary on everyone who walked in, muttering his observations into Jesse’s ear, the kind of acerbic comments that Jane would make. Then he’d reach a punch line and just _walk away_ , leaving Jesse standing by himself on the other side of the room howling with laughter, looking like he’d gone crazy. Walt would just look at him innocently while sipping his coffee, standing with the rest of the teachers who would watch Jesse in confusion. Once they turned away Jesse would flip Mr. White the finger. What would have once earned him suspension now just got him a pair of eyes twinkling behind wire-framed glasses.

 

So that’s how they spent their time. Between lesson planning and classroom management advising, Walt and Jesse spent the rest of their free time hanging around their classrooms and the rest of the school, chatting about whatever happened to come up on that particular day’s discussion. Jesse remembered glimpsing Mr. White on the very first day of classes, when they’d both shared recess duty on that particular Monday. They’d been on opposite sides of the low, chain-linked fence that separated Wynne’s senior courtyard from the elementary playground. Now they would stand shoulder to shoulder, leaning against that same fence, still supervising the students running around but mostly just making each other laugh while standing in the fresh air under the hot sun.

 

That’s not to say everything was all constant fun and games, and giggling in a way that would put their silliest students to shame. There had been one incident in particular that still had Jesse feeling more than a little raw.

 

Schools often told teachers about any behavioral problems with their students in advance, whether they were the result of family troubles, or disabilities, or what have you. Since Jesse was teaching kindergarten there weren’t really any learning disabilities on the books yet for him to hear about. But there was one young girl in his classroom whose mother -  the school’s guidance counselor had informed him in hushed tones – had committed suicide over the summer. Jesse had felt sick to his stomach when he looked over at the little girl who’d been making a playdough sculpture.

 

Jesse had always made an extra effort to be kind to the girl, who was still confused about why she never saw her mom anymore. Most of the time she was on the quiet side but one day she had lashed out _screaming_. When Jesse had rushed over to see what was wrong she’d hit him and ran away and tucked herself between two bookshelves, where she’d sat shaking and looking around wide-eyed, while Jesse sat with her trying to keep her calm until two students he’d sent away had come back with the school nurse.

 

Jesse had received a note from the office the next day. She wouldn’t be coming back to school and would instead be starting kindergarten next year, giving her more time to adjust, and could Jesse please gather any of her things that were still there and send them to the office.

 

Walt had walked into Jesse’s class that afternoon after school, to find Jesse standing in the middle of the room, looking down at a slip of paper, the contents of an emptied cubbyhole on the table next to him, and an absolutely devastated expression on his face.

 

Walt had stood stock-still.

 

“Jesse?”

 

Jesse had looked up at him, and positively _crumbled._ Walt didn’t even think, he just rushed forward to envelope Jesse in his arms before he could hit the floor entirely.

 

“Shhh,” he kept repeating, completely shell-shocked. Jesse just gripped his arms and sobbed.

 

Walt didn’t know what to do so he’d clumsily stroked Jesse’s hair, the way he’d done to Junior when his son had been younger and the pain in his legs had been so bad he couldn’t sleep. He kept up the motion while Jesse wept in his arms. And between gasps Jesse had told him the whole story.

 

They stayed like that in the middle of Jesse’s bright classroom that he’d put so much time into painting for his students, Jesse crying into Walt’s jacket as Walt knelt over him. Walt just held him until he eventually stopped shaking.

 

When the last of Jesse’s sobs seemed to have subsided, Walt murmured against Jesse’s hair:

 

“We want to save them all, don’t we.”

 

Jesse sniffed, but didn’t let go of Mr. White.

 

“She was _five years old_ , man. She didn’t even know what was going on, who…who _does_ that to their kid,” and a fresh wave of tears overtook him. Walt just held him tighter.

 

“We want to save all of them but we can’t,” repeated Walt, startled to find there were tears pricking at the back of his eyes.

 

“But _why_ can’t we,” Jesse mumbled into his jacket, swallowing tightly.

 

Walt rubbed his back. “We do our best. But sometimes our best isn’t…good enough and you have to accept that there are always certain things we can't control and you’re not going to reach every single student that comes your way.”

 

“So what?” Jesse had asked, sniffing loudly. “We’re just supposed to stop trying?”

 

Walt had leaned back to look at Jesse’s tear-stained face. He smiled a bit sadly.

 

“We never stop trying, Jesse. We’re teachers.”

 

Something in the words had managed to draw a shuddering breath from Jesse as he composed himself.

 

“It just…sucks, you know?” he mumbled, wiping his eyes.

 

Walt had nodded drily. “Trust me I do. But Jesse, look at me,” and Jesse had, fighting back the tears that still threatened to appear. Walt cupped his face. “Some students you’ll have a profound effect on and it’ll be the best feeling you’ll ever have. Some of them will slip through the cracks and you’ll have to accept there’s _nothing_ you can do about it.”

 

Jesse looked down blinking rapidly, and felt his face being drawn up by Mr. White. Walt smiled.

 

“And some show up ten years later and end up turning out pretty darn okay.”

 

 

***

 

 

Walt was humming to himself as he erased the blackboard, preparing to meet Jesse for lunch. He’d just had a very successful class with his grade nines. They’d been animated and seemed to _really be_ starting to grasp ionic bonds. When he heard the door to his class being pushed open he just assumed it was Jesse stopping by early. But when he put down his eraser and turned around, he found himself face to face with Skyler.

 

“Sky!” he exclaimed. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d come to see him at work. His forehead creased in alarm. “What’s wrong, are you ok?”

 

“I’m fine,” she said, walking over and smiling at him. “I’m meeting Carmen for lunch and thought I’d stop by and say hi.”

 

“Oh,” he said, somewhat surprised, but not displeased. “Well how are you?”

 

“I’m good,” she answered and there was a pause. “You?”

 

“Good!” said Walt cheerily. Skyler looked at him amused, but then her face softened into something else.

 

“I know you are, I can see that. It’s…it’s a good look on you, Walt. I like seeing you like this.”

 

“Like what?” he asked. He had no idea what she was talking about, but he hadn’t seen her looking this peaceful in a while.

 

“Like…” Skyler squinted at him and shook her head. “No that’s wrong. I was going to say like ‘back to your old self’ but…you’re not that either. You’re different again but it’s…better this time.”

 

Walt blinked in surprise, but whatever was prompting these words from his ex-wife he wasn’t complaining. Skyler wasn’t done though.

 

“There was something else,” she added hesitantly, and reached into her bag.

 

Putting the papers on his desk she stepped back and looked at him, not in sympathy, but maybe with regret. “They came this morning. You don’t have to sign them right now if you don’t want – “ but Walt was already reaching for a pen, flipping through the pages, and signing wherever their lawyer had marked. When he signed the last page he slid the papers back over to Skyler.

 

Walter White was officially a divorced man.

 

Somehow the idea wasn’t as terrifying as it had once been. He smiled a little sadly at Skyler.

 

“It’s for the best, Sky. I know.”

 

Skyler walked towards him and pulled him towards her in an embrace. They stood like that for a few moments in Walt’s classroom, just holding onto each other, these two people who, for better or worse, had had their chance and had done the best they could.

 

Skyler pulled back. “We don’t have to talk about housing now. I think that’s something that could probably wait until the term wraps up, don’t you think?”

 

Walt nodded. “I’m sure it’ll be fine until then.” Skyler smiled. She thought so too.

 

“But I am _not_ going to be the one who has to haggle with the succubus-beings who work in real estate, Skyler I mean it. You’re coming with me, so help me god.”

 

“That’s only because you never knew what questions to _ask_ , Walt!” she laughed at him. “You ask all these questions about the structure and the ‘integrity’ of the house, and not think to do a quick check to see if there were, say, any sinks.”

 

“ _One_ time, Skyler, that was one time.”

 

They might be over, but he’d missed this. The fact that somewhere through meeting Skyler, falling in love with her, marrying her, dragging her down, crawling back to her, and now divorcing her…there was still a thread of friendship running through the whole thing. He liked that it hadn’t unraveled completely.

 

Just then the door burst open and Jesse walked in.

 

“Yo,” he said to Mr. White. He then noticed Skyler and stopped in the doorway, maybe feeling that he was intruding. “Oh hey, Skyler.”

 

Skyler’s lip twitched up. “Yo.”

 

“Mr. White I’m heading over to the place, see you there?” Jesse’s eyes swerved back to Walt.

 

Walt nodded. “Yeah thanks, Jesse, I’ll be there in five.” Jesse rapped his knuckles on the doorframe to show he’d heard, and slipped out.

 

Skyler watched him go and then glanced back to Walt. “I should probably go too, Carmen will be waiting.”

 

“Girl’s lunch?” he asked her, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Yup,” she answered, heading to the door. “Maybe talk about _hair_ , get our _nails_ done, talk about _boys_ …”

 

“Or Ted Beneke?” Walt asked before he could stop himself.

 

Skyler literally froze in place and then turned back to Walt, her eyes wide.

 

“Oh Walt…” she said covering her mouth. “How…”

 

“I don’t doubt you’re indispensable to that place, Sky. But no company needs _that_ much accounting done,” he said. “And your phone messages are a work of art, let me tell you.”

 

Skyler looked as though she were about say something like ‘I’m sorry’, but Walt cut her off before she could.

 

“It’s _ok_ , Skyler. You deserve someone who can make you happy,” he said gently.

 

Skyler couldn’t say anything, but reached out towards this man who’d once been her husband, and squeezed his arm. She turned to go again but stopped halfway to the door. She looked back at Walt and then stared at the doorway for a few moments like she was thinking about something.

 

“You do know that goes for you too, right?” she asked.

 

Walt snorted. “I’ll keep it in mind but uh, you were always the cute one. People aren’t exactly going to be lining up.”

 

She raised her eyebrows at him, doing that thing where Walt could see the gears turning. “ _What_ ,” he said, a little put out.

 

She shook her head. “Nothing. Just. If someone was…lining up, that is...you’re _allowed_ , that’s all.”

 

Walt looked at her like she’d gone crazy. “Thank you, Skyler,” he said very deliberately. “I know that.”

 

Her lips quirked. “Maybe,” she said, and left the classroom.

 

Walt snorted again. And people had thought _he’d_ been the eccentric one in their marriage. He shook his head.

 

He stood in his empty classroom and looked around. He reached over to his desk, giving it an experimental shake. When it didn’t budge, he smiled.

 

There’d been an uneven leg for years that the school had never gotten around to fixing. Eventually it became less tiring to just work with the constant wobbling, rather than deal with maintenance.

 

Then one afternoon, after it had given a particularly abrasive squeak, Jesse had declared that its constant shaking was driving him crazy, that _Walt_ was crazy for not doing anything about it, how do people work like this, for the love of god does no one even _care_ about comfort anymore…

 

The next morning he’d shown up – still grumbling - with tools, and had flipped Mr. White’s desk over onto its side and began unscrewing the legs. When Walt had reached over to offer help, Jesse had smacked his hand away, telling him to go find a beaker to polish. Eventually he had graciously allowed Mr. White to pass him the tools he needed. And Walt had watched amused, as Jesse had taken the whole desk apart and put it back together again, keeping up a mantra of scolding Walt the entire time.

 

And now, no matter how hard Walt pushed it, it still wouldn’t shake, legs firmly planted in Walt’s classroom.

 

Walt let his hand linger on the desktop for a moment. Then he checked his watch, swearing. And grabbing his jacket he left the class, so he could go to the staffroom where he’d soon be meeting Jesse, who would probably tell him off for being late.

And somehow? It would still manage to be the highlight of Walt's entire day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Hope you guys enjoyed!! As always, any thoughts or ideas are mucho appreciated, and are honestly so helpful!  
> \- I'm HOPING chapter 8 will be up tomorrow but if it's not then definitely expect it the next day!  
> \- And even though it's an AU, it's still a Walt/Jesse AU...and those two can only be functional for so long:S  
> \- Oh yeah I'm realizing this isn't an alternate *universe* so much as it is the alternate situation of: "Breaking Bad but if Jesse had gone into college instead of more drugs, Walt had reacted to cancer without the option of having Jesse as an in for the drug world, and they both re-met at a time in their lives when they were a little more functional as people." Ugh I'm gonna cry  
> \- Anyways THANKS FOR READING!


	8. Chapter 8

Everyone at the White residence had gone to bed, except for the two people sitting on the couch pouring over the sheets of paper that were spread across the coffee table.

 

“Tell me again what you’re going to do after the attendance,” said Walt, who was holding a piece of paper away from Jesse so that Jesse couldn’t see what was on it.

 

“I’m going to write the title of the lesson on the board right away,” said Jesse, eyes shut, visualizing it.

 

“Mmm hmm,” said Walt, scanning through the paper, stopping at one of its bullet points at random. “What time do they do their individual work after the teamwork is over?”

 

“9:15” said Jesse. Walt opened his mouth but Jesse continued. “ But I keep an eye on the clock and when it’s 9:10 I ask them to go back to their desks. Since it’ll take 5 minutes for them to get organized, then we can actually start the individual work at 9:15, on schedule.”

 

“Good,” nodded Walt. “And at what time in the lesson do you scan the room to see who’s listening or misbehaving?”

 

Jesse opened his eyes. “…all the time?”

 

“All the time,” agreed Walt, and he let the paper slide back onto the table as he leaned back against the sofa. “That’s nice work, Jesse,” he said, nodding at the paper. “I really think you’ve got it.”

 

Jesse let out a breath as he slumped back into the couch too. “God I hope so.”

 

Walt glanced over at him. “You’re not nervous, are you?”

 

“Not _really_ ,” answered Jesse. “Just…the right amount I think.” Walt smiled.

 

The time for Jesse’s final evaluation had arrived. Tomorrow morning his supervisor was coming in and would watch him teach a lesson from start to finish. He and Mr. White were spending the evening with some last minute revision at Walt’s house.

 

And it was true, what he’d told Mr. White. Jesse wasn’t nervous about the class itself. He knew it was a killer plan he’d come up with, with the help of Mr. White. And honestly, the more classes that went by this semester, the smoother things got. Jesse’s classes had only gotten better from his time spent with Mr. White.

 

When he occasionally dropped in on Mr. White’s classes to watch and pick up tips, he was forced to admit that as far as teaching styles went, theirs were fairly different. But that didn’t mean that Jesse couldn’t adapt Mr. White’s methods wherever he thought they’d work. Classroom management – something that intimidated every new teacher – had become something of a breeze for Jesse, the more that Mr. White showed him about what to look for when you have over thirty different students to be watching simultaneously.

 

And while Jesse had thought that having a structured class would get in the way of a natural environment, he couldn’t have been more wrong. Knowing exactly what he was going to do in every different part of a lesson had given him a kind of peace of mind that he hadn’t had in the classroom before. And the students seemed more relaxed too, although it never got in the way of their nonstop participation. Having a firm structure had freed Jesse up to be even more creative, in a way that he hadn’t expected.

 

Mr. Fring had stopped by for a class once, something he was trying to do to all of his staff, just to keep an eye on how things were going and how everyone was adapting. After the class he’d taken Jesse aside and remarked that while he’d been watching the class he’d completely forgotten the fact that Jesse was – for all intents and purposes – a beginner teacher. Jesse had thanked Mr. Fring, but in his head he’d thanked Mr. White as well.

 

So no, he wasn’t _nervous_ about how the class would go. But he couldn’t help a certain anxiety over this being his last chance to prove himself in the classroom. Otherwise his university would revoke his conditional teaching license, he wouldn’t receive his diploma, and Jesse would have to either redo another year at university, or he would have to find…something else. Either way he’d be saying goodbye to J. P. Wynne.

 

But finding something else other than this was out of the question. Jesse could hardly remember a time in his life when he didn’t have his rambunctious, insane, but incredibly sweet students to look forward to teaching every day. Between that, working down the hall from his best friend, and the constant time spent with his…Mr. White, life could have been a whole lot worse. In fact, Jesse wasn’t sure it could get much better.

 

Walt stood up, grabbing his beer bottle that had been on the table. He shook Jesse’s empty coke can at him. “Another?”

 

Jesse nodded his head and Walt went into the kitchen to throw them out. A couple hours into their revising he’d asked Jesse if he wanted a beer while he had one, but Jesse had asked if he had any coke in the fridge. Walt figured he wanted to stay focused for his evaluation tomorrow.

 

When Walt got back to the sofa with their fresh drinks, Jesse twisted his neck at him. “You sure it’ll work though? Anything last minute I should change?”

 

“I wouldn’t,” shrugged Walt. “I’d stick to what you already have there. I mean your outlines are good, Jesse. As good as mine,” he said yawning.

 

Jesse had to fight the grin that was threatening to appear at this rare praise that Mr. White had thrown out almost carelessly, like he didn’t even realize the scope of what he was telling Jesse, who’d fought his way out of a hole to get this job and to do it well.

 

“And besides,” said Walt, cracking his knuckles. “Apart from going in there and, I don’t know, burning down the entire room, I’m not sure there are many ways you can mess this up,” and smiled when Jesse laughed like he’d expected him to.

 

He couldn’t help but feel that this is what it felt like to be Hank. His brother in law had the tendency to walk into a room and make himself the self-appointed jokester who handled everyone’s entertainment. It was hard to compete with Hank’s swaggering bravado, so Walt had never really tried, and accepted that as long as Hank was around, Walt would be over to the side sipping a beer, and watching Hank keep the room in throes of laughter to a degree that was almost annoying.

 

But seeing Jesse laugh, Walt felt like he might have a better understanding of Hank’s compulsion.

 

“Well yeah there is that,” snorted Jesse. “But I doubt even _that_ would be worse than last time,” he added, face suddenly serious.

 

Walt looked over at him. He knew that Jesse had apparently bombed his final evaluation, but apart from his university letting him redo it now, that was about the extent of what he knew.

 

“Was it really that bad?” he asked, a line appearing between his eyebrows.

 

Jesse bit his lip. “It was pretty darn bad.” He looked back at Walt. “I never did tell you about it, did I?”

 

“No,” said Walt slowly, not wanting to press. “I know the night before was…when your aunt died,” he said carefully. “Only because I overheard Jane mentioning something. But…I mean that’s understandable, Jesse. No one would have been in good shape after that.”

 

“It was more than that,” said Jesse quietly. He sounded like he almost didn’t want to get the words out. Walt waited.

 

“Oh boy,” said Jesse leaning forward, elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands through his hair. “Yeah my Aunt Ginny had died the night before. It was…awful. I – I couldn’t, I didn’t know what to do, man.” Walt looked at him sympathetically.

 

“So I get into the class,” Jesse continued. “My supervisor is already there and she can see my eyes are red. But before she can say anything I just start the class. And it was…a disaster. I was so out of it, I – I couldn’t control them. They were wild, nothing was going according to the plan, it just got worse and worse and then finally I just. I left. I ran out of the room. I actually left my students in the class in the middle of an _evaluation._ Forget the evaluation, I shouldn’t have left them at all. My supervisor actually had to finish the class since now _she_ was the only adult there, since I was throwing up in the nearest bathroom.”

 

Walt let out a whistle under his breath. As far as student teaching horror stories went, this one pretty much took the cake, and he’d heard some real winners. But even so, Jesse was still here wasn’t he?

 

“Well…I mean that’s awful, Jesse, don’t get me wrong but…they’re still letting you do it again so what’s the – “

 

“I was high.”

 

Walt stared at Jesse unsure of what he’d just heard.

 

“You…”

 

“I was high,” repeated Jesse, hunched over. “The official story is that my aunt died, so I was out of it. I mean hey, my supervisor already saw my eyes were red, so she bought it completely, backed me up all the way. Guess I lucked out there,” he laughed with absolutely no humor.

 

Walt couldn’t say anything so Jesse kept talking, somewhat desperately.

 

“Ok I mean she _had_ died but it wasn’t the night before, it was in the morning. I spent all day just… _dealing_ with it, calling people, making the arrangements, waiting with her – with the body. Finally after everyone _left_ I…I fucked up. I smoked.”

 

“Marijuana?” asked Walt, because he didn’t know what else to say.

 

Jesse fidgeted. “Yeah, at first. And then um, later I called one of my buddies, and he brought over some meth - ” Walt flinched “- and then we did that too.”

 

Jesse rubbed a hand over his face and dropped it, mouth a thin line. “So yeah. That’s what happened. She died, I got high, I was high that night, I was high the next morning, I was high while _teaching my class_.”

 

Jesse couldn’t even look at Walt. He stayed folded into himself, somehow taking up even less space than he normally did. And then in a small voice Walt heard him say: “I never even told Jane this part.”

 

The clock ticking on the wall of the White residence was the only sound in the room. Until finally Jesse said:

 

“Look man, you gotta say something, I just…” he looked over at Walt who was sitting very still, back straight, hands folded in his lap.

 

“I see,” said Walt. His voice was expressionless. “Which means you’ll have to do very well on this next one to pass, doesn’t it.”

 

“Well…yeah,” said Jesse, a bit puzzled. “But dude that’s not the point, I messed up, more than I ever have in my life – “ but Walt cut him off.

 

“So basically everything you’ve been working towards this semester has more or less been towards passing this evaluation.”

 

“What? I mean…not exactly but…yeah,” said Jesse, still confused and starting to feel slightly annoyed. “Not _only_ that but I mean it is a big deal, yo.”

 

“Alright,” nodded Walt. “Well. I’m sure by now you have everything you need to go wow your supervisor. Well done, Jesse. Excellent effort. Now get the hell out of my house,” and Walt stood up, turning his back to Jesse.

 

“ _What?_ ” asked Jesse, who was floored, mouth hanging open at the tone of Mr. White’s voice. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d heard Mr. White speak to him like this. “Dude what the hell, I _know_ it was awful, you think I don’t know that? But I’ve been working, man, working hard to do it right this time.”

 

“Oh yeah,” said Walt, whirling around to face him. “Working hard, is that right? Yeah it must be really hard getting someone to do your work for you.” He flung his hand out towards the papers on the coffee table so violently that Jesse flinched. “Is that what this is? Oh sure, let’s go ask Mr. White, let’s get _Walt_ to do all the heavy lifting, maybe if we ask him nicely he’ll do all the work, and then all that’s left to do is smile and take the credit.”

 

His voice was awful in its mimicking tone, and Jesse opened his mouth to deny it. He then closed it, looking at Walt, suddenly understanding.

 

“Oh my god, is that what’s wrong? Is that why you think I’m hanging around? Come on, like anyone puts _that_ much thought into any evaluation,” he laughed trying to tease Mr. White, as though it would diffuse the situation. It was the wrong move though, and as he went to clap a hand on Mr. White’s arm he found it being flung off as he looked into a pair of eyes that were flashing with barely suppressed rage. Jesse took a step back.

 

“Oh so that’s not what this is about? You really _never_ thought about what you were getting out of this that could go towards your own, what, your own _grade_?” said Walt in disbelief.

 

“No!” said Jesse emphatically. He bit his lip. “Ok I _thought_ about it, but just the first time I came over, remember? But I swear to god that was _it_ , it was literally just that one time. And then we started hanging out more, and, I don’t know. I sorta dropped the idea completely. Dude I haven’t been _using_ you, I swear to god.”

 

“And what, I’m supposed to believe the word of some slacker who blames his getting high on his aunt dying of _cancer_?”

 

Jesse winced, but took a step back towards Mr. White, eyes blazing. “Yeah, I fucked up. It _happens_. What like you’ve never made a mistake in your life?”

 

Walt laughed derisively. “Yeah I can think of a few. But mostly thinking that you could ever be a teacher.”

 

Jesse’s mouth hung open and he stared at Walt wordlessly, feeling his stomach drop.

 

“Oh are you surprised?” asked Walt mockingly. “What, did someone look at Education and think ‘ooh teaching, they have summers off’ and immediately sign up like some kind of fucking stoner?”

 

“Oh and what the hell do you know?” yelled Jesse. “Why did you go into teaching, huh? Some kind of messed up way of getting back?”

 

“Say again?” asked Walt, voice dangerously low.

 

“Yeah that’s totally it,” sneered Jesse, the warm feeling he’d had at the beginning of the evening long since evaporated. “That’s totally why you do it, isn’t it. What, were you bullied in high school or something? No no, don’t tell me, you for sure were.” He didn’t notice how Walt was advancing towards him, hands clenched.

 

“So what, you decide since you were bullied that you’ll go be a teacher and finally get your chance to make some fucking high school kids cry, isn’t that it? Some sick kind of revenge? Jesus you’re fucked up,” he spat. “I may have been a stoner but at least I don’t make it my life’s mission to make kids miserable. You think it’s not true? Well news flash, _Walt_ ,” he yelled. “The students hated you then and they hate you now.”

 

Neither of them were prepared for Walt’s fist colliding with Jesse’s face. Jesse staggered back, covering his eye. He looked up at Mr. White who was breathing heavily, as blood began to trickle through Jesse’s fingers. He removed his hand and looked at the red there in disbelief and then back to Mr. White.

 

Walt’s mouth was hanging open as he slowly uncurled his hand from a fist.

 

“Jesse, I –“

 

Jesse dropped his gaze. He couldn’t look Mr. White in the eye. Every line in his body seemed to slump, and it hurt more than if he’d hit Walt back. Walt wished he had.

 

“Save it,” Jesse said. And Walt was unused to this blank tone coming from Jesse. He made a move towards him and Jesse’s eyes shot up, daring him to take another step.

 

“Don’t. We’re done here,” he said. And not bothering to grab his coat, he just sidestepped the coffee table still holding all his materials, brushed past Walt without looking at him, and walked out the front door, letting it _click_ behind him.

 

Jesse couldn’t even think as he walked down the driveway towards his car in the space that Mr. White had cleared for him when he’d said he was coming over. He just got in, backed out of the driveway and took off down the street.

 

As the mechanics of driving the car began to take over, Jesse felt his head clearing as the images came rushing back to him. Mr. White yelling, Mr. White hitting him…but mostly, beneath the anger, the _hurt_ that had been in his eyes at the idea that Jesse had been using him.

 

God, Jesse was such an _idiot_. He fought down the bile that was rising in his throat.

 

Did he really think he wasn’t going to mess this up too? He had actually thought he was starting something good in his life. Like something was telling him he had another chance.

 

And then he had to go and fuck it up. Again. And Mr. White…

 

Guilt went rushing through him. Did he honestly expect Mr. White wouldn’t see through him at some point? It didn’t matter that except for _one_ meet up, Jesse had still been hanging out with him because…because…well Jesse didn’t really know why.

 

But all that mattered was the fact yes, at the beginning, Jesse had been using him, and now Mr. White hated him, like he should. One more person Jesse could cross off his list of people he’d hurt because of his own _stupid_ selfishness.

 

And then, pulling over to the side of the road, Jesse clutched the steering wheel, let his head drop, and started to cry.

 

***

 

Back at the White residence, Walt was standing in the middle of the room, completely dazed.

 

He’d never hit anyone before. He didn’t count the brawls he sometimes found himself in after he’d first been diagnosed, and had been going out and lashing out at everything and everyone around him.

 

But now he’d consciously sent his fist flying into someone’s face, and that someone was Jesse. Jesse, who’d looked at him afterwards, blue eyes widened in more shock than pain. And then worse, with no feeling at all. Walt felt sick.

 

But for a moment it had all felt so goddamn _familiar_. Walt couldn’t count how many times he’d been here before.

 

When he looked at Jesse he hadn’t seen his smartass, exuberant ‘protégé’, for lack of a better word. He’d seen the faces of everyone he’d ever let walk all over him, using him as some kind of plank they’d throw down to step on, just to get to wherever it was they wanted to go, without getting their feet dirty.

 

He remembered Cynthia Rhodes, sophomore year. She would smile at him from behind a curtain of red hair, the only shade of its kind in the class. Gently she’d start chatting with Walt as he swallowed drily, wondering why, of all people, she’d picked _him_. He would still wonder this, even when she was copying out all of his answers into her own notebook.

 

He remembered being put into group work in high school. The boys who sat sprawled nonchalantly in the back row would hoot triumphantly, pumping their fists when Walt was put into their group. They’d then talk to each other, loudly taking up space, while Walt had sat hunched between them, doing the work. The same boys would roll their eyes in gym class, if Walt was ever placed on their team.

 

He remembered Gretchen and Elliot. Letting him think they were all building up something together, before the rug got yanked out from under him _again_.

 

And now there was Jesse, and when was Walt going to _finally_ stop falling for it?

 

Walt sat back down on the couch and scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He suddenly felt exhausted.

 

He glanced over at the coffee table. At Jesse’s carefully thought out lesson plans, his notebook with his writing that was never anything but a messy scrawl despite how neatly it came out on a blackboard, his can of coke next to Walt’s bottle of beer…

 

Walt frowned and picked it up. He looked at it thoughtfully, and then looked back at his beer. Slowly he set the can down.

 

He remembered the last time the school had had a staff happy hour. How hard Jesse had laughed when Walt had explained that the “attention teachers: code purple” that sometimes came over the intercom on Friday afternoons meant that there was sangria in the staffroom. Jesse hadn’t touched any though, holding onto a bottle of water that he’d sipped on while telling Walt about his day as they’d leaned up against the window.

 

Come to think of it, Walt hadn’t seen Jesse drink in front of him…ever. Sometimes Jesse stayed to dinner and when Walt would ask if he wanted wine Jesse would always smile and shake his head. Walt figured it wasn’t really his taste. Jesse didn’t exactly have a discriminating palette. Jesse was much more beer than wine. But then again, whenever Walt had _beer_ Jesse would get himself a glass of water or…a can of coke.

 

Walt leaned back, suddenly crestfallen. How could he have been such a self-centered _idiot_.

 

How had he been spending so much time around Jesse, totally oblivious to the fact that he was a former _addict_? And now, after finally opening up to Walt, he had gone and called him a stoner and _hit_ him?

 

For the first time in a while, Walt thought back to his little ‘hobby’ that consisted of what he always thought of as ‘hypothetical chemistry advice’. But no matter how he rationalized it, he _knew_ he was giving advice to someone out there on how to cook…meth. Meth that found its way to good kids like Jesse who were trying to their best to pick themselves back up again, no thanks to people like Walt.

 

Walt felt his breath start to come fast as he thought back to look in Jesse’s eyes after he’d hit him. His phone buzzed for a moment, distracting him. He grabbed it eagerly, thinking _Jesse_.

 

But his anonymous chemistry disciple couldn’t possibly have messaged him at a worse moment.

 

Walt hurled his phone at the wall and buried his face into his hands.

 

 

***

 

The next morning Jesse was taking the chairs down from his students’ desks before school started. He was moving slowly, wrung out from having cried until he fell asleep. He’d woken up still feeling drained.

 

His supervisor would be there in ten minutes. He’d been excited about this evaluation before. Sure there’d been some nerves, but he’d still been confident about it.  Mr. White had been so adamant about coaching him in the days leading up to it you’d have thought Mr. White was the one being evaluated.

 

But now it was unlikely that Mr. White would ever want to see him again. It was just as well, since after this evaluation Jesse would probably be asked to pack his bags. What with the state he was in? He wouldn’t want to be in his class either.

 

There was a knock on his door and Jesse turned around expecting to see his supervisor there early. He steeled himself before he turned around but found all his armor dropping when he saw Mr. White standing tentatively in the doorway.

 

Walt bit his lip. “Can I come in?”

 

Jesse just shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

 

Walt walked into the room that was just about completely readied for that day’s class. Jesse had a habit of going in early to set up, and even after a night of being yelled at by Walt that had ended with Walt _hitting_ him, Jesse was still there, putting his students first.

 

Walt remembered telling Jesse he shouldn’t be a teacher and, if possible he felt even worse. He watched Jesse who was standing beside the blackboard, not looking at him, sapped of all energy. It was strange to see him with none of his usual exuberance. Even when he was mad about something it was still with more liveliness and vigor than Walt ever saw in anyone else. He’d give anything to see it put back there, but that wasn’t Walt’s place anymore.

 

“Look, Jesse…” he began.

 

“Mr. White I’m sorry,” Jesse said, still facing the blackboard.

 

Walt was thrown off. “ _You’re_ sorry? What the hell do you have to be sorry about?”

 

“Because you’re right,” mumbled Jesse, still looking down. “I was a slacker. I never took any responsibility. I’m still going to do the class today but after that…I’m out. So don’t worry, I’m not going to be bothering you anymore. I’m not cut out for this stuff.”

 

Walt stared at him for a long time, as Jesse stood downtrodden, looking at the board. He opened his mouth intending to comfort Jesse, but what came out instead was:

 

“That is such a load of bullshit.”

 

Jesse’s head snapped up. “What?”

 

“You not being ‘cut out’ for this? Jesus Jesse, come on. You were made for this, so cut the crap.”

 

“What, you know it’s true. You saw me there after that thing with the girl’s mom,” Jesse said, waving his hand towards the center of the floor where not long ago Walt had knelt holding onto Jesse as he’d wept into Walt’s jacket. “If I let everything get to me like that I’m not even going to last the year as a teacher.”

 

Walt looked at Jesse sternly. “You crying your eyes out on a floor because of a student is still twice the teacher I’ll ever be.” Jesse looked at him doubtfully and Walt stepped towards him, raising his hands placatingly. “It’s true. I was…I said some awful things and you were right. Right about me. Jesse I…I understand if you never want to talk to me again but…you can’t leave the school. Don’t do that.”

 

Jesse looked at Walt, waiting.

 

Walt took a step closer. “You know this material inside and out, Jesse. So don’t tell me you can’t do this because I know you can. And you know it too.”

 

“Yeah but you said – “

 

“And since when do you agree with anything I say?” snorted Walt. And then in a softer voice he added, “I didn’t _know_ , Jesse. I didn’t know what I was talking about.”

 

Jesse paused and then raised an eyebrow. “So what else is new?”

 

Walt should have been encouraged by Jesse tentatively joking with him, but felt even guiltier. Jesse shouldn’t even feel the need to talk to him anymore. He walked all the way up to him.

 

“I’m sorry, Jesse,” Walt said quietly, desperately. He hesitantly placed his hands on either side of Jesse’s face. “I’m so, _so_ sorry.”

 

Jesse stood frozen for a moment. And then with a slight sigh he seemed to thaw, colour heading back into his cheeks. He closed his eyes and felt Mr. White gently brush his hair to one side. Moving from some unknown instinct he started to lean forward and –

 

“Oh my god,” he heard Mr. White say, sounding horrified.

 

“What?” he asked, crashing back down to earth, looking at Mr. White, alarmed.

 

“Did I do that?” asked Mr. White, who was still holding Jesse’s face although much less soothingly as he examined the cut on Jesse’s eyebrow.

 

 “What? Oh yeah,” said Jesse, reaching up to touch it gingerly. Mr. White stepped back. “Don’t worry about it though. You’re not exactly uh, Mohammed Ali there.”

 

“Still,” said Mr. White, looking aghast. “Jesus Jesse, I’m sorry, I – “

 

“Oh my god stop apologizing already, it just looks weird on you,” said Jesse awkwardly, but he looked somewhat mollified. He reached up to rub the cut again. “Does it look bad though? Jesus my supervisor will probably notice, won’t she?”

 

“So you’re doing it then?” asked Walt, looking like he didn’t know if he should grin or not.

 

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Yeah no thanks to your motivational speech of the day. But really though, if it looks bad I’m _screwed_.”

 

“You can’t get cuts?” Walt frowned.

 

“Professional attire and comportment,” Jesse rattled off one of the categories he’d be evaluated on. “I can’t be there looking like I just got into a fight. And this supervisor sees _everything_ , man. One of my friends had her for an evaluation and she had a hickey.”

 

Jesse could see Walt stop and look confused.

 

“Not the _supervisor_ ,” he groaned. “My _friend_. She went in with a hickey she couldn’t cover and this supervisor failed her on the spot. Oh my god I can’t believe I didn’t think of that, I’m screwed, man,” he said desperately.

 

“You can’t call Jane? Get her to bring some makeup?” Walt asked anxiously.

 

Jesse shook his head. “She starts later today. What do I _do_ Mr. White?” He’d been indifferent when he woke up, but he could feel himself recharging. He needed to do this.

 

Walt looked around the room desperately. “When is your supervisor coming?”

 

“Any _minute_ , dude!” said Jesse.

 

“Okay,” said Walt. He bit his lip and looked at Jesse uneasily. “You’re going to hate me for this.”

 

“What, why?” said Jesse.

 

“Come here,” said Walt, turning away, and Jesse followed him to the main door. Walt stepped out into the hall and Jesse came out after him, letting the door swing shut behind them.

 

“Okay,” said Walt again. Jesse looked at him apprehensively. Was he actually wringing his hands? Jesse glanced down the hall and felt himself go cold when he recognized the figure of his supervisor down at the very end of the corridor, but steadily coming towards them.

 

“Mr. White if you’ve got some kind of idea just do it because my supervisor is _right_ there,” Jesse hissed.

 

Walt stopped wringing his hands and instead placed them on Jesse’s shoulders. “Jesse…do you trust me?”

 

Jesse looked at him like he’d gone crazy. “Do I what?”

 

“Do you trust me?” he asked again more insistently. Jesse stared into Mr. White’s face, and slowly, almost imperceptibly he nodded.

 

“Okay,” said Mr. White, and reached into his pocket and dropped his wallet onto the floor. “Pick that up.”

 

“Excuse me?” asked Jesse, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Your supervisor is coming, _pick it up_ ,” Walt said emphatically.

 

Jesse looked at him warningly but bent down nonetheless to retrieve Mr. White’s wallet from the floor. And just when he was straightening up, Mr. White _flung_ the door open, swinging it –

 

_BAM_

\- right into Jesse’s face, opening up the cut that was already there.

 

 “OW!” yelled Jesse clutching his eye. “ _Jesus_ , what the hell’s the matter with you? Oh my god you son of a – Mrs. Leon!” he exclaimed, facing his elderly supervisor who was watching them behind a pair of gold spectacles.

 

The three of them stood staring at each other for a moment and then all of a sudden Walt snapped into action.

 

“Oh my gosh, Jesse I’m so sorry, did I get you? I’m _so_ clumsy, I wasn’t looking at _all_ ,” he fussed around Jesse, while Jesse stared at him with his mouth open.

 

“Oh and you’re _bleeding_ ,” exclaimed Walt loudly, in a shocked voice. “Oh and that’s a _nasty_ looking cut, some of these doors in this school are downright dangerous, I’m just so glad it wasn’t worse. Oh excuse me, do you have a bandaid?” he directed at Jesse’s supervisor. He ignored Jesse who was watching him in disbelief, a slow, incredulous grin spreading across his face

 

Mrs. Leon tsk’d at Walt and reached into her purse. “I saw the whole thing. Jesse are you alright? I have a bandage in here somewhere I know, ah here we go. What a thing to happen right before your evaluation, you poor thing, and after last time too! Well don’t worry, nothing like a good bump on the head to get you going in the morning.” She let out a tinkling laugh.

 

“Oh is this your supervisor?” Walt asked in astonishment. “Jesse do you have an _evaluation_ today?” Walt whirled around, his eyes cartoonishly wide, to face Jesse. Jesse just shook his head, barely biting back a grin, his lethargy of the morning completely forgotten.

 

“Yes he does in fact,” said Jesse’s supervisor to Walt somewhat disapprovingly. “And we should be going in as it so happens.” When Walt reached out to open the door for her she leapt back.

 

“I don’t think so,” she said firmly. “You should be much more careful of the people around you,” she scolded him as she headed inside.

 

Walt caught Jesse’s elbow as he went to follow her. “I really should,” he murmured softly, eyes on Jesse’s. Jesse swallowed and nodded once, heading inside for his evaluation.

 

The students came in soon enough and Jesse took the time to get them settled, introduce them to their guest in the back who would be watching Mr. Jesse, and took out the attendance sheet. He happened to glance through the glass in the door while taking attendance and saw Mr. White still standing there. Mr. White lifted his hand, miming that he was writing something on the board. Jesse rolled his eyes. Yeah yeah, write the theme of the lesson on the board right after, he _got_ it. He jerked his head for Mr. White to beat it. Mr. White flashed him a thumbs up before vanishing, and Jesse just grinned.

 

He was still grinning when he walked over to the board to pick up a piece of chalk, but he was shaking his head slightly. What a fucking guy.

 

That stunt with the door? Jesse almost shook with silent laughter as he began to write in big, even letters on the board. Jesus what a piece of performance art that had been. It was somehow simultaneously ridiculous, gutsy, infuriating, amazing, maddening, unbelievable and incredible, basically all the things about Mr. White that Jesse loved –

 

\- The chalk broke off with a screech and Jesse’s students covered their ears, while Jesse stood frozen in place, staring at the board, a sudden rushing in his head.

 

Oh.

 

 _Oh_.

 

Out of the corner of his eye Jesse saw his supervisor lean forward and frown, wondering why he’d stopped.

 

This was not the time, this was _not the time_.

 

Jesse picked up a new piece of chalk, hands shaking. He closed his eyes and yanked himself back into reality.

 

And lifting the chalk to the board and taking a deep breath, Jesse began to teach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know what you guys think!  
> \- Soooo Jesse is now officially on the level haha...how long will it take Walt to catch up? KEEP TUNING IN TO FIND OUT!


	9. Chapter 9

“Dude this is nuts, I can’t believe they’re letting me come along!” said Jesse, as he slid into the front seat of the coach bus, next to Walt.

 

“Well you’re a teacher aren’t you?” asked Walt, kicking one of his bags over to give Jesse more leg room. “And all you need to chaperone is to be a teacher so why wouldn’t they?”

 

“Oh my god you have to stop saying that, I haven’t even gotten my mark back yet. For all I know, after this weekend I’m not even _going_ to be one. Huh? Did you think about _that_?” demanded Jesse, his voice becoming borderline manic.

 

“And you have to stop saying _that_ ,” Walt admonished him. “You’re going to be fine, Jesse.”

 

“And how could you possibly know that,” Jesse scowled.

 

Walt heaved a deep sigh. He’d been having varying forms of this argument with Jesse all week and Jesse needed to calm down already. “Call it an ‘educated guess’. Besides, when do you even get the final mark for your evaluation?”

 

“Sometime next week, that’s all she told me,” said Jesse, and his nostrils flared in disapproval at his not hearing immediately.

 

“Well exactly,” said Walt, pulling out the school’s itinerary for the weekend. “You’re only hearing back next week, and it is _Saturday_ , Jesse. So to use your own turn of phrase, how about, uh, ‘chilling out’? Yeah chill out, Jesse, that sounds like a good plan.”

 

Jesse gave him a long-suffering stare that reminded Walt a bit of Junior. “You have no idea how weird you sound when you do that, do you.”

 

“Weird?” hummed Walt thoughtfully. “I thought I sounded pretty ‘tight’, yo.”

 

Jesse just shook his head slowly. “So weird.” He looked around the bus, at its shouting, hyped-up occupants, all excited to be getting out of town for the weekend. He looked like he was trying to appear casual but Walt could feel him twitching in the seat next to him. He sighed and put down the sheet of paper he was perusing, and looked at Jesse over his glasses.

 

“Jesse,” he said, and when Jesse turned to face him so obviously trying to conceal the panic in his eyes, Walt felt himself soften.

 

“ _You_ said it went well yourself, didn’t you?” Walt asked.

 

“Well I _think_ it did, but – “

 

“So stop worrying about it,” shrugged Walt. “You know your own abilities well enough by now. If you think it went well then it went well.”

 

Jesse felt himself calm down slightly but he was still on edge. Walt sighed.

 

“Jesse, I have every confidence that you were a revelation,” he said wearily. Jesse snorted and he added, “ And I’m sure your supervisor was appropriately wowed. I mean, you wow me on a daily basis.”

 

Jesse looked at him softly and Walt blushed as he replayed the words in his head, so he added quickly: “And besides. There’s no point in worrying about it until next week, I specifically asked you along so you could get your mind _off_ of it, so for the love of god will you just calm down and enjoy the field trip?”

 

Jesse sighed. “ _Fine_.”

 

“Praise the lord,” said Walt drily, picking up his papers again. “And the next time I hear you mention anything to do with evaluations, supervisors or final grades, I’m throwing you off this bus and you can walk to the mountain range and meet us there.”

 

“Sure,” said Jesse, mouth twitching. He then burst out into a full-on grin. “Thanks again for taking me, Mr. White,” he said in a sing-song voice.

 

“Uh huh,” grunted Walt, not looking up. But secretly he was relieved to have Jesse feel enough like himself to be irritating again.

 

It was the annual Grade 9 field trip that Walt’s chemistry classes had been doing for the past five years. From Saturday until Sunday, Walt and his class and three other chaperones would be going up into the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, a four-hour drive from Albuquerque, for a weekend of “chemistry in nature.” They were leaving early on the Saturday morning, would spend Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning working on the students’ projects, and would get back into town sometime Sunday afternoon.

 

It always took place in late October, and Walt looked forward to it every year. It was a nice way to cut the semester in half, and the students always enjoyed getting out of the classroom, even if Mr. White still had them working all weekend.

 

Each year the trip had four chaperones: two female teachers and two male teachers, to balance the numbers. The women this year were Lena Sanchez who taught senior physics and was one of the most organized people Walt had ever met, and Annie Lang who taught biology, and was shorter than almost all of the students but ran her classroom like a battleship. She was also the only one with a driving license for busses and was their resident driver. Walt liked them both.

 

But neither of them could make up for the fact that however refreshing this trip usually was, it meant an entire weekend spent with Gale Boetticher, and Walt’s patience had its limits. Gale was the only other male science teacher so he was the obvious choice every single time. And every year had Gale insisting on playing his CDs in the bus (god no), and complicating things like bringing his own kale-infused whatever and messing up the food arrangements that were hard enough to create for about forty students.

 

So when Gale had cornered Walt towards the end of the week saying that an emergency had “come up” and he wouldn’t be able to get away from Albuquerque for the whole weekend, needless to say Walt wasn’t exactly put out about the fact. He didn’t bother asking Gale what was wrong, but in truth he had looked quite frantic while talking to Walt, casting his eyes from side-to-side like he kept expecting someone to pop out of the lockers while violently brandishing a glass of milk that wasn’t soy.

 

Walt had felt relieved at first but then became annoyed that the trip was now one chaperone down, and where was he going to find a replacement on such short notice?

 

He had barely finished the train of thought before he was turning around and heading straight to Jesse’s classroom.

 

Honestly, even if Jesse hadn’t agreed to come and be the fourth chaperone, Walt probably would have dragged him along anyways. Jesse had been working stupidly hard all semester, especially in the weeks leading up to his final evaluation. He’d earned a break at this point.

 

Walt was still dealing with residual feelings of guilt over the way he’d yelled at Jesse. And hit him too, can’t forget that part.

 

Jesse had certainly seemed to have forgiven Walt for that part. But in the days after his evaluation he’d been…somewhat awkward with Walt. Walt couldn’t blame him at all for that but it was still bizarre to experience. Walt had been waiting for Jesse after his evaluation, and when everyone had left the classroom he’d grabbed Jesse on his way out to ask him how it had gone. Jesse had just jerked his arm away like he’d been burned, his eyes wide in alarm.

 

Walt had immediately removed his hand, fighting down how disheartened Jesse’s reaction had made him. He had _hit_ him, of course Jesse should be wary, and Walt was still disgusted with himself. But it was just…he’d thought they’d tentatively patched things up. Jesse had gone into his evaluation on what Walt _thought_ had been a good note. Or as good as it could be. But then he’d come out of his evaluation apparently unable to even look Walt in the eye.

 

For a couple days Jesse had been like that. Bizarrely polite around Walt as though they were acquaintances, but still twitching nervously every time Walt came up to him, like he couldn’t be in the same room alone with him. It had Walt feeling completely crushed.

 

Walt assumed Jesse just needed some space and so had backed off, even though it went against all of his instincts to avoid Jesse. It was the longest few days of Walt’s life. Finally when Jesse had come around to the class to see if Mr. White still wanted to go get a coffee from the staffroom, Walt had instantly breathed a sigh of relief. And when Jesse had called him a ‘dick’ again, Walt felt about five years younger.

 

So while he was hoping Jesse would see coming on this trip as a bit of a break and the opportunity to get his mind off his marks, Walt also hoped that it would be a good chance for them to be, well, _them_ again.

 

He might not have noticed when exactly their offbeat, tenuously built friendship had become one of the most important relationships of his life, but hell if he’d mess it up this time.

 

 And the further away they got from Albuquerque, and the more visibly excited Jesse grew, the more confident Walt became in that dragging Jesse along was the best possible choice.

 

 

***

 

The bus rolled bumpily over the rocks as it pulled into their campsite, way off of the main mountain road. Apart from one pit stop where Jesse and a group of students had gotten off to refill the bus with gas, most everyone had been sitting for four hours. The students all shot up in their seats ready to tear off the bus before Walt stood up cupping his hands around his mouth, bellowing for them to sit back down again.

 

“Not one person is leaving this bus until we go over the ground rules for the weekend,” he said, waving a clipboard. The students all moaned and Walt grinned unsympathetically.

 

“Yeah yeah, the rules for a trip your school is paying for because you’re all in the advanced chemistry class, my heart absolutely bleeds for you,” he said, and they all laughed, knowing the sooner they got this over with the sooner Mr. White would let them off.

 

Walt went through the schedule for the weekend with the times for meals, sleeping, and when the students would be collecting data for their chemistry projects that they’d work on back at school, the rules for venturing off their campsite (which was less of a campsite than it was wilderness that was slightly less dense), sleeping arrangements and other general housekeeping details.

 

While he was talking, Jesse stood behind him pulling a series of exasperated expressions that had the students trying to keep straight faces. Without glancing around, Walt reached behind him to shove Jesse back into his seat, not even breaking his flow, which was when the students finally burst out laughing. Jesse could have sworn Mr. White sent a tiny wink his way and tried to ignore his flush of satisfaction.

 

When Walt reached the end of his list he reached up into the compartment above his seat, taking out a locked box that he opened with a key from his pocket.

 

“Cellphones!” he announced dramatically, as he walked through the main aisle of the bus. “I know you have them, cough ‘em up,” and the students grumbled as they surrendered their phones from their pockets. “We have a satellite phone on us for emergencies and these things of yours probably won’t have a signal anyways but still, you won’t be needing them so hand them over.”

 

“Excellent,” he said as he made his way back down the aisle after collecting them all. He snapped the case shut where it locked automatically, and he put it back up in the compartment.

 

“Now there was just one more thing – I’m kidding!” he said raising his hands up in surrender at the groan that had arisen. “Go on, get out of here,” he said with his lips tugging upwards and the students all laughed and began to shove into the aisle where they spilled off the bus into the mountain air.

 

Walt and Jesse were left standing on the bus. Jesse was looking at Mr. White with something like affection.

 

“And what are you looking at?” Walt prodded him.

 

Jesse just shook his head and smiled slightly. “Nothing,” he said, before slipping off the bus too, leaving Walt there to mentally note that this wasn’t the first time he’d caught Jesse watching him more intently than usual this week.

 

Well hopefully the weekend would turn things around and Jesse would be back to his normal self when they got back.

 

Walt got off the bus so he could join Jesse and the others out in the sunshine, and help them unpack the bus.

 

 

***

 

Mr. White had been right. Jesse _had_ needed this weekend off, but not only for the reason that Mr. White thought.

 

Okay so maybe Jesse was freaking out about his evaluation a little more than he had to. It was hard for him to say how he’d done since he was too close to the material at this point, but he was reasonably sure he’d performed well. The thing was, if it had been any other evaluation Jesse would have been sure of a pass. But since in this final one they were looking for him going above and beyond, well…he really couldn’t say for sure.

 

At least he hadn’t been high for this one. So there was that.

 

But what had Jesse even more on edge was that in his evaluation he’d momentarily…spaced. Shorted out. Gone crazy. He didn’t know what to call it but any of those could have applied since there was a moment where he’d been completely and utterly convinced that he was in love with Mr. White.

 

 _Mr. White_.

 

Okay so Jesse was attached, he could admit that. But so what? What was the big deal if sometimes the teachers on Mr. White’s side asked Walt where his shadow was if Jesse wasn’t around? And so what if Jane would ask on lunch breaks who had custody of him that day, her or Mr. White?

 

So maybe it was understandable if he’d gotten some signals crossed in his brain. Between spending so much time with Mr. White, the tension that had occurred between them, him being more emotional than usual as well as all the goddamn _adrenaline_ that went into doing his evaluation…well if you put it like that it was no wonder he’d come out of there feeling like he didn’t know up from down anymore.

 

The rest of the week had passed in what Jesse _hoped_ Mr. White didn’t think of as Jesse avoiding him. He just needed…a few days where Mr. White’s face wasn’t the first thing he pictured when he woke up every morning. So not meeting up with him before classes started? Obvious solution.

 

Eventually he felt he’d calmed down enough to be able to hang out with Mr. White without spazzing every time he accidentally brushed up against him. And then Mr. White had asked him along for this weekend getaway of “chemistry” or whatever.

 

No, but really. Mr. White had come up asking “What do you think about a weekend of chemistry with me?” Actually. Jesse had stood there twitching, breath short, convinced Mr. White had caught on to his behavior and was making fun of him or something until Mr. White had said slowly, “my field trip? I think I mentioned it was this weekend? We’re short a male chaperone,” and Jesse’s breath had come out in a whoosh while he made a mental note to have a talk with Mr. White about word choices.

 

So here he was, off to the New Mexico mountains in the hopes that some time outdoors would clear his fucking head already. And he needed to get out of that classroom more. As much as he loved his mural in there he was considering repainting because it _was_ quite loud, and my god the headaches he kept getting in class were beyond belief.

 

He hadn’t been sure what role he’d be playing once they actually got into the mountains. The purpose of the field trip was so Mr. White’s class could work on their final projects for the year. They would spend the weekend collecting and analyzing samples which they’d later write a research paper on when they got back to their classroom.

 

Research papers? My god Jesse hadn’t done a research paper until university and here was Mr. White assigning them in grade nine. _Advanced_ grade nine, but still.

 

Although he had to admit to himself they were certainly keen as they ran around collecting soil samples, distilling stream water, and doing a bunch of chemical processes Jesse couldn’t even pronounce. Mr. White had gotten them pretty excited about the idea in the weeks leading up to the trip, so they were thrilled to actually be out here doing it.

 

Jesse had some basic chaperone duties to fulfill but he felt a little out of his depth, being the only non-science teacher there. He’d asked Mr. White what else he should be doing and Mr. White had just shrugged.

 

“Take a break. Relax. Stand around and look pretty, for all I care. Already you’ve been more useful than Gale who got lost one year when he wandered off in the shrubbery looking for a rare strain of cactus for his milkshake or something. I didn’t even want to ask.”

 

So Jesse had free reign to kind of put his feet up when he wasn’t chaperoning, but it was more entertaining to get involved with what everyone else was working on.

 

Not that he was much use but it was fun to join Mr. White’s groups of students and do things like write down their observations while they took careful measurements. Occasionally he’d drily offer his ‘professional science opinion,’ which was when Mr. White would come up behind him and clap a hand over his mouth.

 

“Don’t listen to this one. Burnout. Slacker. Worst chemistry student I’ve seen.”

 

And Jesse would wrench himself away grinning: “Yeah man, whoever my teacher was, he must have been _awful_ ” and Mr. White would give him a shove before kneeling down to offer a solution that, opposed to Jesse’s, actually. You know. Made sense.

 

So it was pretty fun. They’d had an entertaining first day setting up work stations out under the sun that was positively blazing its heat, despite them being so high up in the mountains. And Jesse had never been camping before. Okay he’d been “camping” with his buddies back in his relative youth. But it was the kind of camping that consisted of building a fire that kept fizzling out unless they kept feeding it with newspaper, getting insanely drunk, and smoking whatever they’d brought along, depending on who was holding that day.

 

But Mr. White had built an _actual_ fire on their first night, one where he’d instructed his students where to put the dry sticks they’d collected, using words like ‘tripod’ and ‘horizontal axis.’ Jesse guessed the students at least knew what he was talking about since the result was a fire that roared constantly, not one that gradually petered out, and it kept sending sparks snapping upwards into the night air.

 

When Jesse admitted to never having toasted a marshmallow before, Mr. White had looked at him appalled, before immediately grabbing the bag out of a student’s hands as she’d been about to spear one with her toasting stick. Jesse had just given him a look as he passed the bag back to the girl so he could wait his turn.

 

When the time came, Mr. White showed him where to hold the stick so that it was just above the coals and not in the flames, and Jesse swallowed when Mr. White’s hand gently held his wrist, showing him how to turn it.

 

He didn’t have much time to think about it since soon they were dousing the fire and heading off to their two forest cabins, one for the boys and one for the girls. Jesse’s head had barely touched the pillow in the top bunk he’d claimed above Mr. White, when he was out like a light, exhausted from the events of the day, and falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 

The next day was their last one out. They were leaving just after lunch but the morning was still spent in a kind a relaxed haze as the students double-checked all their samples as the chaperones walk around to each of their stations, confirming that everyone was packed.

 

Jesse had been wandering among the groups of students, chatting with them while he supervised.

 

“Ever think you’d be interested in teaching high school?” Mr. White had once asked him curiously, during one of their many conversations about the education system.

 

Jesse actually did take a moment to briefly entertain the idea of what he’d be like as a high school teacher, before laughing and shaking his head. Maybe it would be something to consider later on in his career (evaluation mark depending) but he’d told Mr. White he couldn’t really see himself as anything other than an elementary school teacher. Mr. White had smiled at him and said, “I agree.”

 

He did find himself liking Mr. White’s students quite a bit actually. They were all so motivated and eager to have discussions. He’d asked them at the start of the trip to just call him Jesse. His own students all called him “Mr. Jesse” which he thought was absolutely adorable, but it felt kind of weird to hear it from a teenager who was barely ten years his junior, and honestly closer to his peer group than Mr. White was himself.

 

He enjoyed the way they all worked together, their group dynamic so different from that of elementary students. But as nice as it was to experience in the context of a field trip, Jesse knew he’d need a different temperament entirely to actually be able to _teach_ them.

 

As walked over to the group that Mr. White was working with over by the stream, he thought now _there_ was someone who couldn’t be anything other than a high school teacher.

 

Jesse hung back and watched Mr. White with his students. Jesse could see the light in his eyes from where he was standing as Mr. White explained the proper procedure for filtering.

 

He was gesturing widely and the students were all leaning in, nodding seriously, and hanging onto his every word. It wasn’t that he spoke to them like adults, but he never pandered to them, and encouraged all of them to keep up as much as possible, and they leapt at the opportunity.

 

He also would slip in some humour where it was appropriate, and he would certainly tease all of his students but it was more in fun than anything else. He’d also become relaxed, more accommodating of how his bolder students would sometimes rib him right back, and able to appreciate when the joke was ever on him.

 

Jesse saw him throw his head back and laugh at something a student just said, and he felt a tenderness unfurl in his chest. He had to look away suddenly, blinking against the sunlight.

 

He walked away from the scene with his heart aching.

 

Because in that second he knew it was no use denying it or trying to rationalize it anymore. He was completely, whole-heartedly in love with Mr. White.

 

It didn’t hit him like a shot, the way it had in his classroom. It was more that the pieces inside of him had shifted ever so slightly to click softly into place, so that he became someone who was now aware of just _how_ deeply in love with the man he really was, maybe always had been.

 

And he had no idea what to do about it.

 

He sat down on an overturned tree and stared off into the valley that was visible from where they had set up camp. It was gorgeous up here.

 

 _He doesn’t want you_ , he told himself sternly. But…was it accurate?

 

He’d been so defensive about how much time he spent with Mr. White but…it meant that Mr. White did spend the same amount of time with _him_ , didn’t it? And there was the way Mr. White looked at him sometimes. He didn’t do it to the other chaperones on the trip. He didn’t see Mr. White holding _their_ hands to show them proper marshmallow toasting procedure.

 

 _You probably just remind him of his son_ , the voice inside his head told him. But he wasn’t sure that was true either. Mr. White could be fatherly sometimes, sure. But whereas fathers and sons are stuck together, he and Mr. White spent most of their time together by choice. There was an obvious mentoring aspect to the relationship, but more than anything else it felt, at least lately, more like a…partnership.

 

Jesse scratched his neck absently, fighting down the tiny surge of alertness that had just gone through him. He reminded himself to breathe. Because he’d just had the idea that maybe he could just. Find out?

 

 _You don’t have to do anything about it just…test the waters_ , he told himself. Another sensation of upheaval rippled through him. Oh god oh god he was doing this.

 

Doing _what_? Jesse had no clue. He didn’t even have any kind of plan beyond this crazy idea of _what_ if. But if there was even a _chance_ that he could – Jesse swallowed – have him…then what was the harm in just, finding out?

 

Jesse could never stay static for long.

 

 

***

 

They were all standing outside the bus that was finally packed. It was the afternoon of the Sunday and they were about to head off. Walt did one last sweep of the campground to make sure nothing was left behind. He nodded to Annie Lang who was sitting in the driver’s seat, ready to start it up so they could get the motor running for when the students began to pile in. She nodded back and turned the key in the ignition.

 

 Frowning, she switched it off. She waited a beat before starting it again. Still nothing.

 

“What’s up, Annie?” Walt called to her from the ground. The students all looked at each other nervously.

 

“I don’t know, I can’t understand it!” she called back frustrated.

 

“Alright well…give it a second and try again,” Walt said casually, but he exchanged a glance with Jesse and Lena Sanchez, the other chaperone.

 

Annie counted to ten, double-checked all the gears and then, pressing lightly on the gas, she tried to start the bus again.

 

Still nothing.

 

Walt resisted the urge to swear in front of his students as he slowly walked around the bus, checking whatever was visible to him, tires, headlights, _anything_. He came around the bus fully and stopped when he made it to the gas flap. He flipped it open and saw the fuel cap screwed in halfway. He frowned.

 

 _That wouldn’t account for the bus not starting though_ , he thought to himself as he popped it back in all the way. When the fuel cap snapped into place, the light beside the gas flap that he hadn’t noticed was even on before, suddenly went out.

 

He felt his stomach sinking as he unscrewed the cap again. When it came out halfway the light went on again. He pushed it back in and it went off.

 

He turned back to face his students, seeking out the ones who’d gone with Jesse when they’d stopped to fill up on the way there. He’d given them a list of things to check off without his supervision, as a way of giving the students a feeling of responsibility. One had to fill the tank, one had to pay the attendant at the gas station, one had to hang onto the receipt, one had to distribute snacks to the rest of the bus, and one had to _make sure the fuel cap was screwed in all the way so that the indicator light wouldn’t stay on and drain the battery_.

 

The only problem was, Walt didn’t know who had been in charge of what.

 

“Which one of you,” he said, slowly turning to his students, “forgot to screw this in.”

 

No one answered him. Lena and Annie looked at each other anxiously while the rest of the students looked at their feet.

 

“I know it was one of you,” he said, his voice low, as he paced in front of them. “And if you tell me now it means I don’t have to find out later, and you don’t want me to have to find out.”

 

A hand went up slowly and Walt turned to it eagerly, but his mouth went slack when he saw who it belonged to.

 

“ _Jesse_?” he asked in disbelief.

 

Jesse slowly put his hand down. He bit his lip and shrugged.

 

“My bad.”

 

 

***

 

Walt had sent the students back to the cabins to work on their projects. If they were stuck indefinitely they might as well get some work done while they were there. He knew they were probably just buzzing about how the other chaperone, Mr. White’s friend, had broken their one exit from the mountain range.

 

Annie and Lena had gone to keep an eye on them and Walt stood standing with Jesse who was looking around sheepishly.

 

“Sorry about that,” he said anxiously. “I really am, Mr. White, I should have been paying more attention…”

 

Walt watched him shuffle on the spot and felt a slight twinge of sympathy. Jesse couldn’t seem to look at him.

 

Once upon a time he could have seen himself yelling at Jesse, absolutely ripping him to _pieces_.

 

But come on…like he was going to do that now, especially after last time they’d fought. He was _seriously_ annoyed but it wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened.

 

Good lord he was getting so patient lately he barely recognized himself.

 

He pinched the top of his nose and exhaled. “It’s not the end of the world, Jesse. This is…fixable. We’re just going to have to contact the school to let them know we’ll be another night, and to call the parents. They’re the ones who’ll be worrying the most, so they should know as soon as possible.”

 

“Another night?” frowned Jesse.

 

Walt nodded. “I don’t know how long it’ll take to fix and we can’t risk driving through these mountains at night. Better to unpack the basics and get ready for an extra night, do what we can for the rest of the day, and get a fresh look tomorrow.”

 

Jesse had been looking forward to getting back to Albuquerque, partly so he could see his own students. But partly so that he could start…well…Operation White. He’d kind of have to put that on the back burner for now, stranded as they were, up in the mountains with forty other high school students. And even if they belonged to Mr. White, Jesse and the other chaperones were still partly responsible for them up there.

 

“So we call the school now then?” he asked, switching into teacher mode.

 

“Yeah, we’ll be able to get them on the satellite phone,” said Mr. White, turning to the bus to climb on. “They’ll have to contact everyone’s families, as well as organize substitutes for us. I already know who Lena and Annie use, anyone you want me to ask them about for you?”

 

“Uh yeah, ask if Andrea Cantillo’s available,” said Jesse, absently. “Her son Brock is in my class and she already subbed once before on the day where I had that _really_ bad headache, remember? The kids will already know her.”

 

Walt nodded and went onto the bus to retrieve the phone with the extra signal strength that the school had given to them. He walked off thirty seconds later though, in a daze.

 

“What?” asked Jesse, staring at him.

 

“Come on the bus a minute, Jesse,” he said calmly, but Jesse could see he was slightly anxious. He jumped up in the steps and followed Mr. White into the bus, where Walt swung around to face him in dismay, holding out the case he’d used to confiscate his students’ phones.

 

“The phone, Jesse,” he said agitatedly.

 

“What about it?”

 

Walt wanted to wander into the mountains and die, and never come back and face any of his students again.

 

“Remember when I went around and collected everyone’s phones? I…think I locked the school phone in there too.”

 

“So what?” asked Jesse. Why did Mr. White look so nervous? “Unlock the case and take it out,” he said like he was speaking to one of his kindergarteners.

 

Walt just shook his head. “It locks once it closes and I…think I left the keys in there too.”

 

Jesse just stared at him. Walt was expecting him to…he didn’t know exactly. Yell at him? Call him a hypocrite because Walt had wanted to ream him out for not screwing back in the fuel cap all the way? Walt _hadn’t_ yelled at him, but he still wouldn’t blame Jesse for being annoyed.

 

Instead Jesse just grinned at him smugly.

 

“You know what this means, don’t you,” he said, satisfaction written in every note of his voice.

 

“Yeah yeah, I’m never allowed to mention the indicator light ever again for the rest of my eternal life, I’m an idiot,” he said grudgingly. “But Jesse this lock is strong, I don’t want the students to see their teacher bashing it open with a rock and know he left keys in there, _what do I do_?”

Jesse had to resist the urge to laugh. Usually that phrase was coming from him.

 

“Ok it’s not a big deal, do you have any paperclips on you?” When Walt looked at him blankly Jesse just said: “And some tweezers too, if you can find any.”

 

As it happened, Walt had paperclips in his pocket and the first aid kit on the bus had tweezers. He handed them to Jesse who took a seat inside the bus, the large case of phones propped up on his knees. Walt watched fascinated as Jesse, with an expression of concentration, widened the tweezers to prop one end into the lock, and slid the paperclip he’d unfolded in over top. He shimmied them together for a minute and all of a sudden there was a _click_ and the lid of the case was popping open.

 

“And voila,” said Jesse in a deadpan voice, handing it over to him. “You moron.”

 

Walt missed the fondness in Jesse’s voice entirely as he stared at him in astonishment. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

 

Jesse shrugged. “What? It was just like the locks they have on houses.”

 

Walt just raised an eyebrow at him “Do I even want to know?”

 

Jesse gave him a sly grin. “Probably not.”

 

They walked off the bus after Walt grabbed the phone. He turned to Jesse, a bit dazed. “I have to hand it to you, I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

 

“That’s because _your_ ideas involve, I don’t know, bashing things open with _rocks_ , or opening _doors_ into people’s faces, or other equally messed up shit,” said Jesse with a put-upon sigh.

 

“Hey,” laughed Walt. “That _worked_ as you very well know, so excuse me for thinking on my feet. And besides, it gave credence to your cut. What was it you said about your supervisor? She even noticed when someone had a hickey once?”

 

Jesse nodded. “She did,” he said seriously. And then he leaned in to Mr. White and said in a low voice: “But for future reference, a hickey would have hurt a lot less.”

 

And he winked and sauntered off, leaving Mr. White sputtering.

 

Okay, he thought, as he wandered over to the cabins while Walt called the school. He knew he was still technically on the job, but –

 

\- maybe he had time to flirt a little.

 

 

 

***

 

“So here’s the deal,” announced Walt to his students.

 

It was early Monday morning and after a somewhat stressful night of contacting the school and easing the students’ minds, they were all sitting around their campground scattered in clumps in front of the bus as Mr. White spoke to them.

 

“There is good news and bad news. The _good_ news is that the generator between the cabins should be possible to rig to the bus so we can jumpstart the battery. The bad news is…the generator is broken.” The students sighed and Mr. White held up his hands.

 

“However Ms. Lang over here not only has her bus license but also has a knowledge of mechanics and thinks she can possibly get the generator going again, _and_ hook it up to the bus, right Annie?” She nodded from where she was perched, sitting on a boulder.

 

“Now the school knows we’re still up here since we were able to call them yesterday,” Mr. White continued. “But that was our one phone call since the phone was so strained by the lack of signal that it immediately died right after.” Walt scowled his disapproval at how things were designed these days.

 

“I’m _pretty_ sure I can make some kind of battery to get the phone going again, but I don’t want to risk it cutting out again the second we try and call the school back at some point today, which we will have to do since, sorry guys, I’m pretty sure we’re up here for another night.” The students all looked around at each other, not in nerves but more in disbelief. This was slowly becoming the craziest field trip they’d ever been on.

 

“So since we don’t want to strain the signal it’ll mean making some kind of antennae, _but_ , Mrs. Sanchez here assures me this is something she’s capable of doing,” he looked doubtfully at Lena Sanchez, the physics teacher. She just nodded and smiled.

 

“So basically what we’re doing here is,” and Walt ticked them off on his fingers: “repairing and rigging a generator to a coach bus, constructing an antennae that’ll carry a phone signal out of these mountains and into Albuquerque, and” he had to laugh slightly, “building a battery to get it all going. Any questions?” he asked drily.

 

“Uh yeah, I got one Mr. White. When can I stop cranking this thing?”

 

Walt, the other teachers and the students looked to over to where Jesse was off to the side, seated beside the generator where’d he been cranking it by hand for the past hour and half. They all burst out into laughter at his face.

 

“Oh that’s right,” said Walt laughing. “We realized the only way to risk the generator not going out on us is to have someone cranking it at all times. Jesse volunteered for the first shift.”

 

“I didn’t volunteer, I was volun _told_ ,” grumbled Jesse. Walt just repressed the urge to laugh at him some more and turned back to his students.

 

“So that’s the plan. I’ve got the work stations posted up on the side of the bus, check them out and figure out where you’re going first. Forget about your projects for now, our first priority is getting out of here. We’re doing this in a rotating fashion guys, groups of ten. Group 1 you’re with me on battery duty, Group 2 you’re with Mrs. Sanchez for the antennae. Group 3 you’re with Ms. Lang at the generator, half of you helping her with whatever she needs, half of you keeping the handle going. Group 4 you start on break. Once you’ve had your turn on cranking duty you get a ‘free period’ which Jesse’s supervising. You’ll go to the sheets posted on the bus to see which group you’re in.”

 

“Make sense?” he asked finally, raising his voice to his students and they all straightened up, nodding smartly. “All right, let’s do this. And someone go take over from Jesse before his arm falls off.”

 

Jesse laughed and got up slowly, circling his shoulder slowly in its socket as he walked over to Mr. White while the students ran off to check their stations.

 

“I’d be strangling you right now if I thought my hands would ever work again,” he groaned, flexing his fingers.

 

Walt scoffed. “Those tiny things? I’m trembling in fear.”

 

“Not the size of the hands, man. It’s about where you put them,” and he clapped Mr. White on the back, making him jump as he went over to supervise the first group that would be on break from Mr. White’s rotating schedule.

 

“Mr. White?”

 

“Hmm?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from Jesse’s retreating back.

 

“We’re in Group 1,” his student said, as she gestured to the other students around her. “Are we starting the battery?”

 

“Oh, um, right. I’ve got the basics over here…” and he led them over to the work station he’d set up and began instructing them on how to get started.

 

He glanced over to where Jesse was with the students on break, who’d chosen the stream as the perfect spot to wade, sunbathe, and relax. Jesse was standing in the water with his jeans rolled up around his knees, laughing at a student who was trying to splash him. His smile was blinding, even from where Walt standing.

 

Walt shook his head. Of course Jesse hadn’t been flirting with him, like he’d almost bizarrely thought for a second. And like he’d thought yesterday for a moment there, as well. Jesse was just affectionate, and was so with absolutely everyone, not just Walt alone.

 

Walt didn’t know why the idea bothered him so much.

 

***

 

The students worked tirelessly throughout the day. Walt was honestly impressed with their commitment. Not one student had slacked off, even once.

 

He could see the antennae that Lena was supervising gradually taking form into something tall and elaborate that was snaking its way up the side of the bus. If they finished that and his battery at the same time, Walt would be able to get back in touch with the school, which he was anxious to do.

 

He walked by the generator, leaving his students with the battery they were working on. He knew he could trust them with the step of the process they were currently on. He knew less about what they were doing over here at the generator though, watching them hook it up to the engine, but Annie Lang seemed to have things under control as she calmly showed the students which wires to connect where.

 

He headed over to where Jesse and the last group were over in the stream. Throughout the day, while everyone was working out in the heat, the shrieks and splashes coming from the water had made them all envious until it was their turn in the rotation to go on break. But Walt realized for the past hour he hadn’t heard them hollering anymore. He saw them all standing around, tinkering with something Walt couldn’t quite make out, which they had propped up in the water. When he got to them they all sprang up facing him, hastily concealing it behind their backs.

 

Walt just raised an eyebrow. “Building a robot?”

 

“Don’t even worry about it,” said Jesse easily, and the students all covered their mouths, clearly in cahoots about something.

 

“Mmm hmm,” said Walt, supremely unconvinced. He trusted Jesse though, and knew whatever they were up to it could hardly be dangerous.

 

Maybe it was an automatic marshmallow toaster, he mused as he walked back over to his station, smiling to remember the way Jesse had thrust his immediately into the fire the other night before Walt had told him it would just fall off. He’d gotten the hang of it eventually, but was still too eager and kept burning them.

 

He didn’t mind though, Jesse had said as he licked burnt marshmallow off his lips in glee, the picture of enthusiasm. Walt’s heart clenched as he remembered the look on Jesse’s face.

 

The sun gradually sunk lower and lower throughout the day, turning the mountains red, but Mr. White’s class didn’t notice, as they were so wrapped up in their tasks.

 

Finally that evening the time had come to see if they could reach the school on the phone. The students carried the battery over beside the bus where Walt hooked up the now-dead phone that the school had given him. He held his breath as it turned on. When the phone lit up the students started to cheer but Walt was still apprehensive. It wasn’t any use if they couldn’t call anyone on it.

 

Placing the phone in the holder that Lena had constructed at the base of the antennae, Walt dialed Carmen’s home number from where it was in his agenda. There were a few minutes of silence…and then the phone started to ring.

 

The students all cheered ecstatically and Walt shushed them, but he was grinning and gave them all a thumbs up. He was just high fiving Lena when Carmen picked up.

 

“Hi, Carmen?” he said. “Yep that’s right, alive and well. Mm hmm. Yep. Yep it all depends but optimistically we’re looking at a departure early tomorrow morning.”

 

He listened to Carmen on the other end and smiled. “Yep, four days out, tell me about it,” he laughed. “Ok well thanks again for taking care of it. We’ll call you tomorrow. Bye then.”

 

He hung up and turned to his students and stared at them silently for a moment. He then broke out in a smile and laughed in disbelief. “ _Nice_ job, everyone. After this I have no doubt that the generator will be equally successful when we try it out tomorrow."

 

He turned frowning to look at where the students were still turning the handle of the generator while he’d been calling Carmen. “Of course this means taking shifts for cranking that damned thing overnight, I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

 

“We did,” came Jesse’s voice. Mr. White turned to him, where Jesse was standing with some students over by where the stream cut through their campsite, at one of the faster moving areas of the current. They were all looking at something tall and wooden that had been placed in the center of the flow. It looked somewhat crude since it was made from whatever branches happened to be around, but it seemed sturdy and was clearly well-built, and Walt could tell from here it was a –

 

“ – water wheel!” said Jesse’s elated voice, as he made jazz hands in front of it while it spun around in the current.

 

“That’s…great, Jesse,” said Walt, nonplussed. Is this what they’d been working on while on break with Jesse? Cute idea to pass the time, but why on earth would they need a…

 

Walt stopped and stared at Jesse. His mouth dropped. Unbelievable.

 

Jesse was instructing a student to tie a length of rope they’d found around a handle that was built into the wheel. “Now then, if we just tie this off here…” Jesse muttered, and he carried the other end of the rope over to the generator, indicating to the boy currently cranking it that he should move over. Jesse slipped the noose he’d created over the handle of the generator, held his breath and –

 

\- the handle started to turn by itself. No, not by itself. By the water wheel that Jesse had apparently built from scratch while he was supposed to have been on break duty.

 

Jesse leapt up and punched the air, whooping triumphantly. He turned to look at Walt. “What, like I was going to let you guys have all the fun?” he asked, grinning.

 

Walt felt a burst of love in his chest that was almost violent. Who _was_ this kid he’d somehow wound up with?

 

Soon enough it was time for the students to go to bed and they all filtered off to their cabins. Walt did a tour of the boys’ cabin to make sure everyone was settled, and to remind them to roll up their sleeping bags first thing tomorrow so that they’d be ready to throw onto the bus.

 

Walt headed out to walk through their campsite, smiling slightly at the abandoned work stations. They’d really gone above and beyond today. He glanced over at Jesse’s water wheel that was still churning steadily and shook his head in disbelief.

 

He stopped at the edge of the campsite by the trees, gazing out at the valley where the stars were spattered across the sky, turning it almost more white than blue. Never saw that in the city.

 

He heard a crunch and turned to see Jesse coming towards him. He moved to the side and Jesse leaned up beside him against the tree.

 

They looked at each other for a moment and then had to laugh, reeling slightly from what an unreal day it had been.

 

“So,” said Jesse.

 

“Yep,” chuckled Walt, which set Jesse off again.

 

“That was amazing by the way,” said Jesse finally, nodding back to the campground behind them. “Jesus, I can’t believe how _fast_ you set that up. It was like _boom_ we need this, _boom_ we need that, alright here’s a SWAT team level plan of action, alright let’s do this, people,” he said in an impression of Mr. White’s teacher voice, that was more amusing than accurate.

 

Walt smiled. “What can I say, they came through. All of you,” he added, punching Jesse lightly in the arm.

 

“Yeah but you _organized_ it, man, that takes some serious skills,” said Jesse shaking his head. He turned to Mr. White to look at his face. “You’re seriously good with them, it’s crazy.”

 

Walt was silent for a long time. When he spoke again it was the last thing Jesse was expecting:

 

“I was so jealous of you.”

 

Jesse was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

 

“The first day of school,” said Mr. White, his eyes far off. “It was recess duty and I was on my side of the fence. But…I saw you over on yours. There were students all around you and you all looked so…happy. Happy to be there. I hadn’t felt like that at work for a long time,” he said, looking at Jesse’s whose expression was unreadable.

 

“You were all laughing,” Walt continued. “Something you had said. And it was only your _first_ day of teaching and they all…they all loved you so much already,” he said in a rush.

 

Jesse looked like he wanted to say something but Walt kept going. “And you were right about me, I – high school wasn’t…easy for me. I’d like to _think_ I don’t take it out on the kids, at least not anymore, but – “ he said desperately, but Jesse was putting a hand on his cheek cutting him off. Walt turned to him, startled.

 

“You’re something else,” said Jesse seriously. And he hesitantly brushed a thumb against Walt’s face. “You know that, right?”

 

The stars that Walt had been admiring before looked positively dull in comparison to Jesse’s eyes that were shining softly at him. Walt opened his mouth to ask what Jesse was doing, but closed it back up again at the look on Jesse’ face. Slowly, almost gingerly he reached up to cover Jesse’s hand that was gently pressed against his face. He saw a smile glimmering at the corner of Jesse’s mouth. Walt took a step forward, his eyes still drinking in Jesse’s. When Jesse moved towards him Walt felt his breath hitch and –

 

“Mr. White?”

 

They leapt apart as one of Walt’s students came around from the other side of the tree. He hadn’t caught them doing anything – and what _were_ they doing – but Walt couldn’t look at Jesse anyways.

 

“Sorry,” the kid said tentatively. It was Brody, the student that Walt had yelled at on the very first day of classes for having his phone out.

 

Walt fought down the urge to yell at him again right now.

 

“What is it,” he asked somewhat coldly. Brody’s eyes swung between him and Jesse, both of whom were still avoiding each other’s eyes.

 

“I was hoping I could talk to Jesse for a second,” he said. “But I can later…”

 

“No it’s fine,” Jesse said. He nodded towards Mr. White. “I’ll catch up with you. What is it, Brody?” And Walt walked away towards the cabin, their voices floating after him.

 

He stopped in his tracks. Was that the phone he had just seen standing upright on one of the work stations? Jesus, if it rained overnight and that got wet…

 

He walked back to get it but stopped in his tracks when he heard his name coming from where Jesse and Brody were standing. He glanced around and quietly moved closer.

 

“You didn’t have to cover for me, Jesse,” Brody’s voice was saying. Walt couldn’t see Jesse shrugging but he felt like he could hear it.

 

“It’s no big deal,” said Jesse.

 

“Mr. White would have _killed_ me if he knew it was me that didn’t put the cap back in properly.”

 

Walt’s mouth fell open. _What_?

 

“He wouldn’t have killed you, Brody,” came Jesse’s voice, amused. “Even so, you guys are my responsibility too. I was the one who went out at the gas station with you guys, I should have been double-checking everything. It was just as much my fault so why not take the blame?”

 

“Well….maybe. You’re a teacher so he can’t yell at you. And he _hates_ me.”

 

“Hey,” came Jesse’s voice a bit sternly. “He doesn’t _hate_ any of you. And besides,” Jesse snorted. “Being a teacher wouldn’t stop him from yelling at me, _trust_ me on that one.”

 

Walt stood there unsure if he should turn around and go back. Then he heard Jesse’s voice again, but he had to strain his ears since Jesse was speaking much more gently.

 

“He’s _so_ proud of you guys. Especially after today. You’re not giving him enough credit.”

 

Walt slowly turned around. He felt like he’d been walloped with a two-by-four and was moving in a daze.

 

Somehow by putting one foot in front of the other he made it back to their cabin where he slipped into his bunk. He wanted to think about…everything that had happened today but his mind was a series of images, all swirling too fast for him to settle on one.

 

Not long afterwards he heard Jesse and the student come into the cabin, and he squeezed his eyes shut as Jesse’s feet scrambled up the ladder to the bunk he had above Walt. Walt listened to him settle in, tossing and turning until he’d found a spot that agreed with him.

 

Walt pretended to be asleep but he was sure it was unconvincing. Jesse could probably hear his heart hammering from where he was lying. Not that it would have mattered since Jesse’s was thudding right back.

 

***

 

The next morning was the moment of truth.

 

Annie was up in the front seat of the bus, ready to give it another go, as soon as they turned on the generator. Lena was about to go to the generator to grab its cord but Walt gently held her back.

 

“Brody,” he said to the boy standing beside it. “Want to give it a go?”

 

His student stared at him with his mouth open, but Walt just nodded encouragingly. Brody reached out to start up the generator, yanking the pull-cord back forcefully. Annie turned on the bus and the engine roared to life.

 

Everyone cheered and gave each other high fives.

 

“Yeah Mr. White!” whooped Jesse, clapping his hands. “Yeah _science_ ,” and everyone laughed at his enthusiasm.

 

“Alright alright,” said Walt grinning. “Load her up. Let’s go home.”

 

They drove back down through the mountains, and it had never been more of a relief to see the main highway.

 

Walt and Jesse sat next to each other in the front seat they’d had on the way up. It was slightly awkward, neither of them quite looking at each other, jerking away every time their knees brushed, trying to control their breathing.

 

But as they made their way down the highway they both saw the Denny’s sign at the same time. They turned to each other raising their eyebrows. And without needing to exchange a word, Jesse went up to tell Annie to take the next exit, while Walt twisted around in his seat to ask the rest of the bus, “Who’s hungry?”

 

The Denny’s hostess stopped and stared as their bedraggled looking crew entered the restaurant. Walt turned around and did a quick headcount, and looked back at her, smiling charmingly.

 

“Table for forty-four, please?”

 

Denny’s came through and they all wolfed down their meals, reveling in eating something that was actually hot, and that didn’t come from a can. The chaperones were all more or less silent as the students yelled out to each other, calling out ‘remember whens’ and all talking excitedly about the stories they’d have to tell their friends when they got back, about a field trip that probably wouldn’t ever be repeated, at least not in quite that way.

 

Eventually Walt stood up, taking out his wallet.

 

“I’m sure between the forty of you, you can put together enough of a tip to make it up to the poor waitress who has to deal with all your dishes?” he asked his students, raising an eyebrow. They called out “Thank you, Mr. White,” gleefully and he snorted as he went up to the counter to pay.

 

He was giving the hostess his credit card when he felt Jesse slide up next to him.

 

“Put it on this one too, please,” he asked her smiling, holding out his own.

 

“You don’t have to do that,” said Walt.

 

“Does teaching high school come with a pay raise I don’t know about? And can’t have you ruining your reputation by buying breakfast for almost half a hundred students, can I?” he grinned at Walt, teasing him. “Besides, it’s the least I can do.”

 

Walt fixed him with a look. “For what, forgetting to screw the fuel cap back on?” he asked, somewhat sardonically.

 

Jesse didn’t flinch. “That’s right,” he said lightly.

 

“Jesse,” said Walt a bit more gently. “I know it wasn’t you.”

 

Jesse glanced at him as he put his credit card back into his wallet. “Oh no? And why would I cover for someone else?”

 

Walt stared at him. “Because you’re something else. You know that, right?” he echoed.

 

Jesse looked up at him questioningly. And when Mr. White cracked a smile at him he felt a rush of joy bubble up through him that threatened to pour out of his fingertips.

 

They herded the students back onto the bus, and Walt and Jesse sat a bit more easily next to each other as they pulled out and resumed their trek back to Albuquerque.

 

At one point Walt turned back to look at his students. They’d been so exuberant on the way up, the way it is at the start of field trips. But now, on the way back and after having had breakfast, each and every one of them was passed out. Walt had to smile at how they were all collapsed, sleeping on each other’s shoulders, exhausted from their weekend getaway that had turned into a four day pageant of troubleshooting, brainstorming, and problem-solving.

 

He turned back in his seat, and looked over at Jesse, who was staring out of the window beside him.

 

“You know,” he started, and Jesse turned to look at him. “You never actually said if high school was good for you,” he said, thinking back to what he’d confessed to Jesse the night before.

 

Jesse shrugged. “In what way?”

 

“I don’t know,” said Walt. “You never said if _you_ were bullied at all. I can’t picture it, but you never know.”

 

Jesse thought back. He hadn’t been, but then he definitely hadn’t been popular either. He’d been so on the fringes that no one would have bothered. He glanced at Mr. White and shrugged again. “Not really, I guess. People would have had to care enough first.” His tone wasn’t one that asked for sympathy. It was like he was just stating a fact.

 

Walt stared at Jesse. And when Jesse gave him a tentative smile, all the emotions Walt had been feeling for the past couple of days, hell, the whole _semester_ , finally stopped spinning and fell into place as he looked at Jesse, who after everything, was still here beside him.

 

 _People would have had to care enough first_. People clearly had no idea what was in front of them. If Walt had ever been one of them, well, he wasn’t anymore.

 

In response he glanced down to where Jesse’s hand was resting on the seat between them. And ever so slowly he inched his own hand over, his pinky lightly grazing Jesse’s.

 

Jesse looked down at their hands and raised an eyebrow at Mr. White. And in one decided motion Walt covered Jesse’s hand with his entirely, giving it a squeeze, and a warmth blossomed in Jesse’s chest. Jesse didn’t even bother to stop the smile that was spreading across his face, and he turned his hand underneath Walt’s so that he could gently lace their fingers together, holding on fast.

 

And they stayed like that the rest of the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO A FEW THINGS  
> a) SORRY for the radio silence from me the past couple days! In a totally moronic move I forgot my laptop at my parents' house when I went to visit for dinner, and I wouldn't be able to get it back until the weekend which meant no updates *torture*  
> b) I finally got it back this morning and immediate cranked out a new 25 page chapter from breakfast until dinner as a gesture of good will, I don't even know how that happened dO NOT SAY I DON'T LOVE YOU (and literally all I had in my outline for this chapter was 'Do 4 Days Out.' Yeah thanks, past-me, that was super helpful and detailed)  
> c) Oh and yeah, like I wasn't going to get 4 Days Out in here somewhere lol you kidding me omg of course I was because FEELS (and also the last chapter was kinda angsty and I wanted to do one that was just purely fun craziness)  
> d) The next chapter won't be anywhere NEAR as long haha, this was a one-off, but Chapter 10 concludes Act 2, and it should be up tomorrow! And I think you'll want to read it...:P  
> e) once again: I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR READING, your comments are all so amazing, please keep me posted on what you think, it's the most fuelling thing ever, omg thank you again for being so encouraging, you're the best!


	10. Chapter 10

Have you ever had to deal with a school’s administration after you and your students got stranded in a remote mountain region for four days while you were supposed to be on a perfectly routine field trip?

 

Walt hadn’t. And he never wanted to again.

 

Okay so he could kind of understand that maybe back at J.P. Wynne it had been _somewhat_ stressful when a bus of forty students had suddenly gone missing in the wilderness while they were in the middle of a simple weekend camping trip, and were only heard from sporadically.

 

Walt couldn’t even imagine how the conversations between the board and the students’ parents must have gone.

 

_Hello, is this the Garcia residence?_

_Speaking, why?_

_We’re just calling to inform you that your daughter won’t be coming back from the mountains tonight, as planned._

_Ok, do you know when she’s coming back?_

_We don’t have that information at this time._

_Alright, do you know when you’ll hear from them again?_

_I’m afraid we don’t know that either._

_I see. Do you know where they are, if anyone is injured, how much food and water they have, and if measures are being taken to retrieve them?_

_Can’t help you. Now excuse me, we have thirty-nine families to call with just as much information as we’ve given you._

_Sounds fine, thanks a lot, and good luck!_

_Thank you ma’am._

Walt owed Carmen one hell of a Christmas present.

 

But for now she’d have to settle for his official statement of the trip, as well as those of the other chaperones. They’d arrived back on the Tuesday and Walt’s students had been given the Wednesday off to recover from the unplanned marathon of a getaway. Walt and the chaperones had been given the day off as well, but it was less of a break for them, since it consisted of being on the phone all day with Carmen, the school board, and all of his students’ parents so he could apologize, inform them of what had happened, and take responsibility for the fiasco.

 

Walt _really_ hadn’t been looking forward to that part. Of course they would have a right to be nervous back in Albuquerque and totally in the dark as to what had been going on, but come on, it hadn’t exactly been a vacation for Walt either. Did they think that _he_ hadn’t been worrying about getting everyone out of there in one piece?

 

But the phone calls had actually gone quite well. Parents were mostly _thanking_ him for getting their kids back. Huh.

 

On a less positive note, Walt hadn’t just been _leaving_ messages. The moment they’d arrived back in cell phone range Walt’s phone had practically _blown up_ with messages from Seth wondering where the hell he’d been, he’d been trying to reach him all weekend, there’d been huge production backups in the lab, if Walt had been more available in the week before instead of ignoring his messages all the time they could have avoided it, he needed solutions _now_ …

 

Walt had eyed the messages with a certain measure of distaste.  He’d have honestly preferred another round with the school board but he gritted his teeth and sat down to give solutions to Seth too, as per their agreement.

 

Frankly, Walt was getting fed up with this arrangement. A year ago it had seemed like this bizarrely perfect opportunity, something that had fallen from the sky and into his lap, and had allowed him to pay for his treatment as well as provide for his family. And all he had to do was provide the occasional ‘chemistry advice’.

 

There wasn’t anything _technically_ illegal in it. Okay maybe a lawyer could find something to say about the sums of cash that Walt periodically received in the P.O. box these people had set up for him. But he had enough now for the rest of his life. Hell, he had enough for a hundred lifetimes at this point, so what was stopping him from pulling out?

 

Because honestly, this semester his heart hadn’t been in it at all. He still shot off the advice whenever it was necessary. But what had once been a hobby, a kind of distraction for him, was now just something that got in the way of what he was beginning to consider his actual life, and the goodness he’d been finding in it. A life that consisted of – mostly through Jesse’s influence – developing his relationships with the people around him which included his family, Skyler, his coworkers, his students, and, not to mention, Jesse himself.

 

So yeah, thought Walt as he finally headed back into work after the phone-filled interlude. He was really going to have to start considering an exit strategy, maybe message Seth, say he wanted out and find out what the options were.

 

But now was not the time, since for the first time in fifteen years Walter White was late for his own class.

 

He had his grade nines first, he remembered, as he half-jogged down the empty corridor. They’d have to understand but still, what kind of example was that setting as a teacher…

 

He barely had time to wonder why the door was unlocked before he got there, and how the students already seemed to be inside, when he was pushing the door open to –

 

\- his students all sitting on their desks, clapping loudly and whistling in appreciation.

 

Walt was pretty sure the look on his face was ridiculous. But he’d _never_ walked into a room at this school to this reaction before.

 

“Good morning to you too?” he asked them, a tentative smile working its way onto his face as he went up to the front of the room to drop his briefcase on his desk.

 

A couple of his students walked up to his desk, holding something behind their backs.

 

“This is for you, Mr. White,” one of them said, and they pulled out an enormous card, placing it on his desk.

 

Walt looked at it, his mouth hanging open, absurdly touched. It was in the shape of a large yellow school bus, with all of his students’ signatures, and it had the words “Science Bus” written across the side, in looping, sparkly letters.

 

Walt didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t that he was a stranger to gifts from students. You’d get the odd one who came up to him at Christmas with a bottle of wine that their parents had clearly bought in a case, to give to all of their kid’s teachers. And he received the occasional hug when a student graduated, if he happened to have been one of their favourites.

 

But he’d never had an entire class go out of their way to present him with something they’d put together as a surprise. He swallowed around the lump that had appeared.

 

“This…this is great, guys. Thank you. Really.” He smiled up at them and they all looked pleased at his reaction.

 

“Thank _you_ , Mr. White!” one said. “Best field trip _ever_.” And they all started talking excitedly. They were the most popular class in the school at the moment, and everyone who hadn’t been on the trip was asking them envious questions about what it had been like. They would probably be dramatizing stories about their adventure for the rest of the year.

 

Walt stared at the card smiling for a moment longer. He suddenly felt a kind of lightness. He raised his hand to get his students’ attention.

 

“So here’s the deal, guys,” he said. “About your projects that you were supposed to be working on…” and his students all looked up at him dubiously.

 

“…forget about it.”

 

There was a moment of stunned silence where the students looked at each other in disbelief. Was this Mr. White telling them _not_ to do an assignment?

 

“Really?” one of them spoke up, a bit uncertainly.

 

Walt looked at them. His students who had worked so hard with him, and who he had the sudden feeling he’d do anything for. He nodded.

 

“Really. I don’t know what to tell you guys. You all did an incredible job up there. I know we were there to do work for school, but there were quite a few…distractions.” His students laughed. “So I feel like I can’t ask you to do that, not after the way you all applied yourselves so much already.”

 

His students watched him in amazement and Walt continued, as he began to set up his desk, being careful of the brightly coloured card that was still there.

 

“So here’s what’s going to happen. I still need a mark for each of you guys on this project, for your term report cards. But I’m not going to decide what it is.” He looked at them simply. “You guys are going to decide. Be honest with yourselves. Think about what mark you think you _would_ have gotten, what kind of mark your project would have deserved, come up to me at some point this week and I’ll write it down, no questions asked, and that’s your mark for the term projects. Your word is final.”

 

His students couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Walt saw some of them look at each other open-mouthed, thinking of the possibilities that Mr. White was leaving open for them. He raised his voice slightly.

 

“Of course _all_ of you could take the opportunity to come up and ask for a one-hundred percent. You certainly could do that, all say you feel you deserve a ninety, a ninety-five, or even a hundred.” Walt just shrugged. “And that’s okay. Whatever you tell me that you genuinely think is fair, I’ll do it. Because I trust you guys.” He looked around at them and smiled. He added a bit more quietly, “And I’m proud of you guys.”

 

Mr. White’s class was silent for a moment as they contemplated what Mr. White was telling them.

 

“But this doesn’t mean we slack off for the rest of the semester either,” Walt said raising an eyebrow. “We do this, then it means we continue to work hard until the end of term. Understood?” His students all straightened up and nodded.

 

“Good,” he said, getting ready to take out their textbook. He picked up the enormous card they’d given him, smiling at it again, as he looked for a place on the wall to pin it. “Oh by the way, which one of you made this?”

 

“Jesse did, Mr. White!” said a student, and they all nodded excitedly, grinning. Mr. White’s class had taken a liking to the young, cool, and kind of silly teacher who sometimes came to their classes and then came on their field trip with them. They also liked to see their normally stern teacher getting made fun of, and Jesse was more than willing to oblige them.

 

Walt looked up from the card. “What?”

 

“He called all of us yesterday!” another student said. “Before even you did. He asked if we could come in early today and sign it, so he opened up the class for us with his keys and we all came in before you.” Her classmates grinned along with her, in the kind of glee that comes from banding together to get the better of your teacher.

 

Walt looked down at the card again. He couldn’t believe it but looking at the bright card with its professionally drawn lines, he guessed he should have seen it. He was also willing to bet that Jesse had spoken to his students’ parents as well, blaming himself for the delay and praising Walt for getting them home, and basically charming them so much that by the time Walt called the parents, they’d all been weirdly agreeable.

 

He scanned the card and then saw familiar, messy handwriting on the approximate part of the bus’ outline where’d they’d been sitting on the way up and back. It read:

 

_For Mr. White, who is something else. – Jesse_

Walt blinked down at the note and let his fingers brush it gently. He had to tear his eyes away from it to look back at his class. He cleared his throat.

 

“Alright alright enough distracting the teacher. Let’s have a look at chapter ten.”

 

 

***

 

 All through class Walt’s eyes kept flicking back to the card that Jesse had made, where’d he’d pinned it up on their bulleting board. And every time he did so, he had to fight back a smile and slight sensation of giddiness.

 

Walt snorted at himself. He was fully aware he was reacting like a schoolgirl but every time his thoughts so much as turned vaguely in Jesse’s direction he couldn’t help reacting in the kind of cheeriness that was so reminiscent of, well, Jesse.

 

It was _ridiculous_. Walt knew he should probably be thinking a lot harder about the fact that he’d fallen head over heels for a twenty-five year old, male, former student, recovering addict, probable ex-con, fellow coworker and total smartass whom he had only _really_ known for just a few months.

 

When he thought about all those things there seemed to be a very good reason to feel anxious, take a step back, and really _think_ about what it was that he was considering getting himself into.

 

But then. He only had to think one thing, one single word, and all those thoughts, all those reasons were immediately cleared from his head to become just meaningless noise:

 

 _Jesse_.

 

And then everything felt completely right.

 

When Walt’s students finally left to go on recess he shut the door behind them, leaning against it and breathing heavily, his pulse racing like it was going for the world record.

 

He cast an eye over the card like he’d been doing all class, and grinned like he’d done just about every time too.

 

Yesterday he’d been itching to call Jesse. He didn’t even know what he’d say. But it didn’t matter in the end, since he had needed to deal with a whole bunch of official calls all day anyways. And then he probably wouldn’t get a chance to see Jesse at all between classes today either, which wasn’t unusual for a Thursday, since it was when both of their schedules were the busiest. And Jesse would probably be focusing primarily on his own students today, since it was the longest he’d been gone from their class, and they missed him when they didn’t get to see him whenever they wanted.

 

Walt could relate.

 

And now recess was over and Walt had to scramble to prepare his next class, and would probably be doing so all day if he was going to remain this distracted.

 

It was going to be an unbearably long day.

 

***

 

Eventually classes did finish though, and after school found Walt sitting at his desk, tapping a pen against his lips, a blank piece of paper in front of him.

 

He hadn’t gone to see Jesse yet, but had had this idea of leaving him a note in his staff mailbox, as some kind of response to the card he’d gotten this morning. The only problem was he had no clue what to say.

 

And what _could_ he say? ‘Heya Jesse, want to go get a coffee sometime? I mean I know we already do that all the time but maybe the coffee would taste different since we held hands for four hours on a bus the other day while forty high school students were asleep behind us. Let me know what you think, hope you had a good day, bye now.’

 

There was a reason Walt had gone into sciences and not language arts.

 

Walt groaned and let the pen drop from where he was chewing it in his mouth. This would never work. Maybe he’d just walk over to the main offices with their individual staff mailboxes and think of something on the way.

 

He made his way through the school, feeling the kind of conviction that comes only from knowing you’re doing what you’re supposed to do, and going where you’re supposed to be. There’s a kind of mental freedom that comes with total certainty, and Walt was utterly certain in Jesse.

 

But it didn’t mean his heart wasn’t about to beat its way out of his chest.

 

He got into the section of the school that was the main offices for both high school and elementary, and faced the wall that was covered with wooden boxes for everyone’s school correspondence. He scanned the shelves with a finger, until it came to rest on Jesse’s name. _Jesse Pinkman, Kindergarten Homeroom_. Walt couldn’t help the warm feeling the mailbox’s nameplate inspired. God he was so far gone.

 

As he took another slip of paper from his pocket so he could scribble some kind of note to leave, one of the letters in Jesse’s mailbox caught his eye.

 

Walt glanced around. The office was empty. He gently flicked one of the other letters to the side so that the envelope that had caused him to do a double take was now clearly visible.

 

It had the logo of Jesse’s university. Walt stared at it.

 

And then grabbing it, he ran all the way to Jesse’s classroom.

 

“Jesse!” Walt burst into the class.

 

He wasn’t even sure if Jesse would still be hanging around this late after school. Most teachers tended not to linger after their final class, wanting to get home, especially if it was later in the week like it was now.

 

But there was Jesse standing there, erasing the board, and getting chalk dust all over his hands. His eyes lit up when he saw who had come in. His gaze fell to the envelope in Walt’s hand. He nodded at it.

 

“You get the winning numbers or something?”

 

Walt just ran up to him and thrust it towards him.

 

“It’s your mark, Jesse, it has to be.”

 

Jesse had been about to take it from Walt but he froze.

 

“My mark?”

 

“For your evaluation, Jesse! It must be, it has your university’s crest on it.”

 

Jesse took it from Walt, his eyes wide. “Did you look at it?”

 

Walt snorted. “Yeah I took your mail, steamed it open, read your mark and resealed it so I could come give it to you now without even telling you what was inside. Oh my god what are you waiting for, just _open_ it already!”

 

Jesse started to slowly tear the envelope open but his hands were shaking. He looked back at Walt, panicked. “I can’t do it, Mr. White.”

 

“Jesse,” Walt put his hands over Jesse’s stilling them. He looked Jesse in the eye. “It’ll be fine.”

 

Jesse swallowed and nodded. He took a step back and opened the envelope, taking out the official looking documents inside. Walt’s heart was in his throat.

 

Jesse scanned through them, throwing them aside, getting to the last page, his gaze jumping straight to the bottom where they put the marks out of a hundred. He looked at it for a long time. Walt thought he was going to go crazy.

 

“Well?” he asked restlessly.

 

“Ninety-six point two percent.”

 

Jesse was staring at the page in shock. Walt blinked.

 

“ _What_?”

 

Jesse looked back up at Walt, a slow grin taking over his face.

 

“Ninety-six,” he said, with excitement beginning to flood his voice as he advanced towards Walt, “point TWO PERCENT, BABY!” he shouted the last part, and leapt up into the air. “YES!”

 

Walt clapped his hands together and burst out laughing at the crazy grin on Jesse’s face.

 

He was about to congratulate Jesse when all of a sudden Jesse was jumping towards him, grabbing him by the collar, and kissing him hard on the mouth.

 

Walt staggered back and barely had time to react before Jesse was pulling away, his eyes widened like he was surprised at what he’d just done. It had barely lasted a second.

 

Jesse fidgeted nervously with the paper he was still holding. He looked at Mr. White who seemed a bit stunned as he raised a hand to touch his mouth, his face unreadable.

 

“Mr. White?” he asked hesitantly, after he couldn’t wait any longer. “Can you, uh.…say something?” The last part came out a bit rushed.

 

Walt just slowly shook his head. “No.”

 

There was a horrible sinking moment where Jesse thought he’d gotten everything completely wrong.

 

But then in one fluid motion Walt was stepping towards him, sliding an arm around his waist, and kissing him before Jesse even had time to register it. Walt’s other hand went to rest lightly on Jesse’s back as he held them together.

 

Jesse let his eyes fall closed. His hands came up to rest on Mr. White’s sleeves, and he clutched at the fabric. And as he turned his head, opening his mouth under Mr. White’s, everything around him seemed to slot into place.

 

They stayed like that for a few moments, Walt just gently kissing Jesse, taking his time with it, while Jesse, lips soft, let himself melt into the way Mr. White was holding onto him.

 

Walt reached up to lightly stroke Jesse’s hair, moving it out of his face, when a loose strand got caught between their mouths. Jesse pulled back laughing slightly as Walt reached between them to pull the piece of hair out of the way.

 

“Is that yours or mine?” asked Jesse, shaking with suppressed laughter, joy, and something else he couldn’t name because he’d never felt anything like it in his life.

 

Walt just looked at him softly, eyes roaming over Jesse’s face like he was trying to memorize every detail. His gaze came to rest on Jesse’s own, and Jesse was sure he could get lost in the way that Mr. White was looking at him.

 

And then Walt smiled, laugh-lines creasing in the corners of his eyes, and Jesse felt his heart swell before it got swept away completely by everything in Mr. White’s gaze.

 

Jesse gently nudged his face back towards Mr. White’s, placing a hand on the side of his face. Walt closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, overcome by the feeling of Jesse in his arms, Jesse placing his lips against his neck, Jesse smiling against his skin, Jesse, Jesse, _Jesse_.

 

Walt shuddered and wrapped his arms tighter around Jesse, pulling him closer towards him. He lifted a hand to cup the back of Jesse’s head, gently tilting it back so he could look at him. When he saw everything he was feeling, every crazy longing from the past semester he’d ever had shining right back at him in Jesse’s eyes, he let out a breath and couldn’t help smiling again as he leaned his forehead against Jesse’s, partly in relief, but mostly in the kind of happiness that had always felt just out of reach his entire life, but was now standing right in front of him.

 

And still grinning he bent down to catch Jesse’s lips again, and again, and again, closing his eyes, and letting himself fall into the way Jesse kissed him back, lips turned upwards to match Walt’s smile.

 

They stayed like that for a long time, arms around each other, swaying in place on the carpet in Jesse’s room, kissing intently.

 

And when Jesse reached up to wind his arms around Mr. White’s neck and gently pull him closer, he finally let go of the paper he’d still been holding onto this whole time.

 

 It fluttered slowly to the floor and came to rest by their feet where it lay there. Jesse’s heel came up as he stepped back onto the paper, crinkling it slightly, covering the part of the page that read ‘ninety-six point two percent’.

 

And as Walt and Jesse stood there, kissing each other like they never wanted to stop, that’s where the paper stayed. One hundred percent forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- And that's the end of Act 2, folks:)  
> \- Thank you all SO much for reading and making it this far in what's honestly been my favourite bunch of chapters to write! Stay tuned for Act 3, and thank you so much again!


	11. Chapter 11

Walter White stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom, arms braced on either side of the sink as he contemplated the words he’d tell the other man.

 

He had rested under the hot spray of the shower for a long time that evening after he'd gotten home, thinking about what he could say, the best way of wording it.

 

He’d understand, Walt thought to himself, now out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. At least he hoped so.

 

He stared at his reflection and took a deep breath and said very deliberately:

 

“I changed my mind. I don’t want to do this anymore. I hope you understand. Message me back to show you’ve read this.”

 

He let out his breath, and making without making eye contact with his reflection he nodded. It would have to be enough.

 

Turning away from the sink he took out his phone and shot off the message, the way he’d just rehearsed it. After he pressed send he let the phone clatter onto the marble countertop. He leaned back against sink and rubbed his eyes.

 

It had been harder than he thought. But he knew that ultimately it was the right choice for him and Jesse.

 

***

 

Across town, Jesse was working in his living room on a new unit for his kids. While up in the mountains over the weekend Jesse had had some time to think about activities he could do with his own students. They’d seen a whole bunch of different flora and fauna, and Jesse was sure he could get his kids excited about doing activities based on New Mexico plants and animals. You just had to mention ‘animal’ to them and they all perked up immediately.

 

Jesse broke out into a big goofy grin, like he’d been doing pretty much all evening, ever since he’d left his classroom. He couldn’t believe that he would get to keep them after all. Not only was Jesse Pinkman now a _fully_ certified teacher, but…it meant he would get to stay.

 

Stay and do things like create crazy units for a group of kids he was going to be gutted to part with when they left kindergarten the next year in June. But it was something that Jesse would be there to see, since Jesse was _staying_.

 

Jesse fought down the urge to laugh in delight. Okay focus, Pinkman. Which activities should you use to introduce the unit and which should you save for later on…

 

Jesse smiled to think of one of the first conversations he’d had with Mr. White after he’d come to the school. How scathing Mr. White had been, how defensive Jesse had been in turn. Their voices floated back to him:

 

_You mean to tell me none of this is planned? There are no units, no **nothing**?_

_I know what a unit is and how to create one, I’m not an **idiot**_.

 

Jesse snorted. And look at them now.

 

After what had happened in his classroom after school he’d left his room in a daze. He’d wanted to stay like that forever, just being there with Mr. White, being in his arms, allowed to stroke his face, wondering at the fact that they’d somehow made it to the point where Mr. White was kissing him and Jesse was kissing back and they were _there_ and could just do that without there being any question that this was so so _right_.

 

Eventually Mr. White had pulled back slightly.

 

“Car,” he had mumbled against Jesse’s lips, eyes closed.

 

Jesse had almost moaned, and he’d dug his fingers into the back of Mr. White’s neck.

 

“Yes,” he whispered against Mr. White’s skin. Yes he would go to Mr. White’s car, yes he’d go wherever Mr. White took him, hell he’d stay _in_ the car if that’s what Mr. White was asking, and let Mr. White do whatever he wanted to him.

 

He’d leaned in to kiss Mr. White’s neck which he’d then bit softly. Mr. White had shivered slightly and ran his hands up Jesse’s back. But he’d then pulled away, looking a little hazy.

 

“No I mean, my car. Junior will be waiting by it, I’m taking him to physio after school, I completely forgot,” said Walt a bit breathlessly as he’d looked at Jesse’s lips which were red and slightly swollen from where Walt had been kissing him.

 

“Oh right,” said Jesse foggily, trying not to make it completely obvious how much he’d been about to push Mr. White into the nearest wall so he could press up against him, needing to feel _more_.

 

He shook his head, clearing the images. “Yeah I should uh, I should call my supervisor actually. So um…yeah.”

 

He had looked at Mr. White standing in front of him, shirt wrinkled where Jesse had been clutching it, hanging on for dear life as he had tried to hold the pieces of himself together long enough to just keep kissing Mr. White for _one_ more minute, before Jesse could be swept away entirely.

 

He had then actually looked at Mr. White’s face. It was a face he used to think he knew as well as his own at this point. But looking at it now, the way Mr. White’s skin was slightly flushed, the slickness of his mouth and knowing what it felt like to be pinned under it, and feel his own mouth worked open thoroughly by a pair of firm lips that knew exactly what they were doing…

 

Jesse could get to know that face _so_ much better.

 

But Mr. White had to go and so did he.

 

Jesse had reluctantly stepped back and smiled at the way Mr. White’s hand trailed down his arm like he didn’t want to release him.

 

“So uh,” Jesse had said a bit breathlessly.

 

“Yeah,” Mr. White had agreed. He sounded like he’d just been hit by a bus.

 

“Well I guess,” Jesse lifted a hand absently.

 

“I guess I’ll call you?” Walt finished for him. His eyes looked hopeful and Jesse couldn’t help feeling an overwhelming surge of tenderness.

 

“You do that,” he said, looking up at Mr. White, biting his lip, trying not to be  _too_ transparent about how much he wanted to smile at him forever.

 

Walt had nodded. “I’ll do that.” He looked off to one side, shaking his head slightly. “Jesus, Jesse,” he said as he looked back at him, eyes twinkling.

 

Jesse had just grinned. “I know.”

 

They had stared at each other for a few moments longer, something having been decided. Finally Jesse jerked his head.

 

“Get out of here,” he said gently.

 

Mr. White had turned to go but he stopped like he was reconsidering. And then he had swiftly turned back towards Jesse where he pulled him in by the waist for one last, lingering, scrupulously delivered kiss that had left Jesse boneless. And then just as quickly he pulled away, and left the classroom without another word.

 

Jesse had smiled the whole way home.

 

Which is where he was _now_ , trying to get some lessons planning done. But my god, it was _impossible_ to focus when you were this damn happy. Jesse finally just threw down his pen giving up entirely, and sunk back into the couch cushions, surrendering his thoughts completely to those of Mr. White. The way his lips had tasted, the way he’d gasped slightly when Jesse had slipped his tongue in his mouth, the way his skin felt when Jesse was holding onto him, what it felt like to be so close to him, wrapped up in each other completely…

 

Jesse’s phone buzzed loudly on the coffee table, jolting him out of his daydreaming. He was annoyed until he saw the name on the display.

 

Eagerly he reached down to flip his phone open and read the message inside:

 

_Are you free at recess, tomorrow? I wanted to ask you something. Your classroom, maybe? – W.W_

Jesse grinned widely. Mr. White had one of the most awkward texting styles he’d ever seen. His messages were usually so short and to the point, that when they’d first started texting each other Jesse had thought Mr. White had been annoyed with him. Well, apart from in the usual ways.

 

But they’d spent enough time texting each other during school assemblies that Jesse had gotten used to what kinds of texts meant that Mr. White was in what kind of mood. And his use of _three_ separate sentences here and not just one, meant that Mr. White was in a good mood.

 

Jesse smiled again and texted his reply.

 

 

***

 

Walt glanced at his phone that was buzzing on the bathroom sink and reached for it apprehensively. He smiled when he saw it was Jesse.

 

Out of the two people he’d just texted, Jesse had gotten back to him first.

 

_You bet:)_

Walt smiled softly. So that was one meeting taken care of.

 

Then, before he’d even put the phone back it buzzed again. It was ‘Seth,’ his anonymous chemistry pen-pal.

 

 _I changed my mind. I don’t want to do this anymore. I hope you understand. Message me back to show you’ve read this,”_ Walt had written to him. He looked at what Seth had sent him back:

 

 _Someone will be in touch_ .

 

Walt immediately felt a weight lift from his shoulders. So this was happening. He was getting out.

 

He hadn’t been happy with his little hobby for some time now. At first it had been flattering to be so needed. But now he knew that there were other people who needed him more.

 

And besides, if this was something he were to actually continue, making _meth_ , the thing that had caused Jesse so much more grief and difficulty in his life than he deserved…then Walt would never be able to look Jesse in the eye again.

 

And Jesse had really, _really_ nice eyes.

 

With a sigh and a certain amount of contentment, Walt turned away from the mirror to get ready for bed.

 

Things were falling into place.

 

***

 

The next morning Walt knocked on Jesse’s classroom door and opened it part of the way.

 

“Can I come in?” he asked, leaning his head in.

 

Jesse looked up from where he was straightening out the student’s cubbies.

 

“Since when do you ask?” he teased him. Walt smiled a bit apprehensively and walked into the room.

 

He wandered towards Jesse in a parody of nonchalance, his hands in his pocket as he gazed around the classroom, checking it out like it wasn’t somewhere he stopped by at least once a day already.

 

He finally reached Jesse and stood there awkwardly, removing his hands from his pockets and rubbing them together. Jesse watched him in amusement. Was Mr. White _nervous_?

 

“So,” Walt said, clearing his throat.

 

“So.” Jesse was doing his best not to laugh at him.

 

“How are you,” mumbled Walt, and Jesse just grinned, raising en eyebrow.

 

“I’m well, and yourself?” he asked, mimicking Mr. White’s serious tone.

 

Walt rolled his eyes at him but he seemed to relax. “So yesterday…”

 

“…was pretty fun,” smirked Jesse. “I uh, I could do that again sometime.”

 

A smile tugged at Walt’s lips. “So could I. But Jesse…” and he looked somewhat troubled.

 

“Oh boy, here we go,” said Jesse. He’d been expecting some kind of a speech, and he was pretty sure he already knew what this one would be.

 

Walt looked at him imploringly. “You know I have to say it.”

 

“You don’t _have_ to say it.”

 

“You’re so _young_ ,” burst out Walt.

 

“Ok apparently you do have to say it.”

 

“I’m serious, Jesse,” and Jesse looked up at Mr. White who was facing him beseechingly. He looked so urgent that Jesse didn’t have the heart to tease him anymore.

 

“I know,” he said casually. “But…I didn’t think that was really a problem right? It doesn’t matter to me, I mean…it’s us,” he finished a bit softly.

 

Walt's heart ached in longing at the words. “Yeah. It is. But I just, I already _had_ my youth, the whole dating thing, going out, seeing what’s out there…I had all of that _before_ Skyler, and then kids, and then divorce and it’s just. I’ve had a _life_ , Jesse.” He scrubbed a hand across his eyes. “I don’t even know what I’m trying to say but it’s just. I’ve had my chance, and some people never get half of one. I never expected another opportunity. But you…you can still have lots of chances.” He looked at Jesse almost pleadingly. “You shouldn’t have to waste them on me.”

 

Jesse was silent for a long time. He looked back up at Mr. White, how desperate he looked and Jesse couldn’t help feeling a surge of affection for this man, this beyond ridiculous man who had no clue that for Jesse, being with him wasn’t even open to debate.

 

“You talked about your youth,” he said slowly. Walt watched him apprehensively. “But see, the thing is…I’ve had one too.” Walt blinked.

 

Jesse smiled at him. “The whole ‘explore your youth’ thing? Yeah I had that already and uh, let’s just say that we didn’t really get along,” he said drily, and Walt let out a tiny sliver of a smile.

 

Jesse walked towards Walt and gently reached up to stroke his jaw. “I’ve wasted my youth with idiots already,” he said. And he smiled up at Mr. White and spoke softly:

 

“You’re the only idiot I want to waste my time with anymore.”

 

Walt felt a flood of relief as he looked into Jesse’s eyes that were sparkling up at his. He huffed out a laugh.

 

“Thank god,” Walt chuckled, and he bent down to capture Jesse's lips with his own.

 

Jesse immediately parted his mouth beneath Walt’s with a sigh. He’d replayed their kiss from the other day so many times in his head that he’d been starting to wonder if he’d imagined it.

 

But he wasn’t imagining _this_ , the feeling of Mr. White lightly grazing Jesse’s lips with his teeth, running a hand through Jesse’s hair, slipping his tongue inside Jesse’s mouth, doing things with it that had Jesse seeing stars and only wanting more.

 

“You know,” he gasped a bit breathlessly between kisses. “I gotta say, that wasn’t one of your more convincing speeches.”

 

Walt laughed against Jesse’s lips, sending vibrations through him that Jesse would feel tingling there for days. “I might not have been trying too hard.”

 

Jesse bit Walt’s lip, grinning. “Mr. White, you phony.”

 

“Eh, what can I say,” shrugged Walt, and he bent down to suck at the hollow of Jesse’s throat. “I’m very self-interested,” he murmured against the skin, and Jesse shuddered.

 

The bell chose that moment to ring and Jesse groaned. He straightened up though, trying to make himself appear slightly less rumpled before his students arrived.

 

Walt smirked at Jesse who was fumbling with a button on his shirt that had somehow become undone. Jesse just scoffed.

 

“Yeah yeah, look at you, allowed to look disheveled. _Some_ of us have class all day, and not like, what is it, only one class to teach on Fridays? Yeah life’s rough isn’t it.”

 

Walt just eyed him softly. “Not at the moment.”

 

Jesse rolled his eyes. “And you’re a sap and absolutely no one is surprised. Oh wait, wasn’t there something you wanted to ask me? You know, before you decided to list all the reasons why I shouldn’t be with you and then kiss me in a way that gives me basically no other choice?”

 

Walt’s mouth fell open as he flushed in pleasure at the ‘no other choice’ but he closed it smiling slightly.

 

“Oh yeah, well I mean. It’s been a while since I’ve done this so I guess I kind of got the order backwards but…Jesse Pinkman would you like to go out for coffee sometime?” he said, very deliberately.

 

Jesse just looked at Mr. White whose eyes were glinting with humour.

 

And then Mr. White’s lips twitched and Jesse burst out laughing.

 

He was practically doubled over and he knew he looked ridiculous, but he couldn’t get over the unbelievable fact at how after everything they’d been through, the unlikelihood in their being flung together, and all the dancing around each other for what felt like _so_ long, they had finally made it to a point where they were there asking possibly the most generic and boring sounding question in the world:

 

_Would you like to go out for coffee sometime?_

Boring had never sounded more wonderful, at least not to Jesse’s ears.

 

Jesse straightened back up, wiping his eyes.

 

“Yeah,” he finally managed to gasp out. “Coffee would be nice.”

 

Walt smiled at him. “Since you’ve said yes, you know you’re not ever getting rid of me, don’t you?”

 

Jesse just grinned. “Promise?” And Mr. White’s smile cut through his entire face.

 

 Just then Jesse’s students all came running in from recess, rushing straight to their cubbies or their desks, scampering around, some of them greeting Mr. White.

 

With a final glance at Jesse who was still watching him, Walt turned around and left the classroom, gently closing the door on the way out.

 

“Was that Mr. White? Why didn’t you say he could stay?” one of Jesse’s students chirped.

 

Jesse smiled and ruffled her hair.

 

“Because he already knows.”

 

***

 

Walt was walking in front of the school, heading towards its main front gates. He didn’t have class again until the afternoon so he thought he’d get some fresh air.

 

He’d never felt lighter. Everything felt so so _right_ that he couldn’t believe this was his life.

 

He was getting out of his chemistry extracurricular, Jesse wanted him as much as he wanted Jesse. Nothing could possibly mess this up for Walt.

 

Except for the three men in masks who piled out of the van that had just screeched to a stop in front of him, throwing a sack over his head, and shoving him into the van before taking off again, tires squealing.

 

It had all happened in a _second_.

 

Walt sat on the floor of the van coming back to himself, registering what had just happened to him. It had been unreal but as he slowly started to assess the situation he found himself trying not to panic.

 

He had a moment of where he thought _they’ve got the wrong guy_. Walt had never done anything illegal in his life.

 

But…that wasn’t strictly true, was it.

 

Walt felt himself go cold as he realized what was happening. Since when was he such a complete and absolute _idiot_?

 

It’s not like the actual word “meth” had ever been exchanged in his emails, but come on. Walt knew what was probably going on. Did he think he could just _text_ a bunch of drug dealers trying to get out, and think they’d just, what? Offer a severance package and send him on his way?

 

Walt’s breath started to come in short gasps but he _forced_ himself to stay calm. He didn’t know where they were taking him. If he played this right then he could still get out, get back to his family, back to – he swallowed – Jesse.

 

The van kept up a series of twists and turns that Walt lost track of, but sometime later they pulled to a stop and were herding Walt out of the vehicle. His knees were aching from where he’d been kneeling.

 

He heard a door open and found himself being shoved along to keep moving. His wrists weren’t bound and for a second he considered fighting his way out, but then just realized how stupid that would be. He still didn’t know how many there were. Someone grabbed a hold of him as they got to some stairs so he wouldn’t pitch forward and fall. Walt felt slightly relieved. At least they didn’t want him to die _yet_ , not before they got to wherever they were taking him.

 

He was suddenly flung into a room and heard the door shut behind him.

 

He waited nervously. But he seemed to be alone.

 

Tentatively he reached up towards the cloth bag that was over his head. The movement didn’t get him shot, so in one motion he ripped it off his head, blinking against the light as the room swum into focus.

 

He didn’t know where he was. It looked like some kind of…boiler room? There were ugly grey machines everywhere that almost blended in with the walls, pipes going in every direction, a row of lockers at the back of the room. It certainly looked like a boiler room at first.

 

Walking closer to one of the machines, Walt ran a hand over it. He then withdrew it, heart pounding. He glanced around at the rest of the machinery and equipment. It was cleverly disguised to look old and somewhat beat-up, but Walt could see that this was not a boiler room…

 

…It was a lab.

 

He heard footsteps approaching and he whirled around, heart in his throat. A man was advancing towards him but then stopped, and seemed to be frozen in place.

 

“Walt?”

 

Walt peered at the figure. No…it couldn’t be…but….

 

“ _Gale_?”

 

Gale Boetticher walked towards him, in a complete stupor. But the closer he got to Walt, the more his face contorted into a gradually increasing image of fury, one Walt had never seen on him.

 

“It was you?” shouted Gale. “This whole time it was _you_?”

 

“What do you mean, it was _me_ , where the hell are we, Gale?” Walt yelled.

 

There was a clatter above them and they both turned to look up at the catwalk that was stretched below the ceiling, as footsteps echoed around them.

 

The sound of footsteps came down the stairs, and Gus Fring stepped lightly onto the floor, making his way towards them.

 

“Gale I’d like you to meet your consultant, Heisenberg. Mr. White you already know Gale, he’s sent you numerous messages under the name of ‘Seth’ I believe.”

 

The shock hit Walt like a ton of bricks. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Gus interrupted.

 

“And to answer your question, Mr. White,” he smiled politely, turning to face Walt. He gestured towards the room with a steady hand.

 

“This is your new lab.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- AND THE PLOT THICKENS...but is anyone really surprised lol  
> \- Hope you guys enjoyed the kick-off the the third and final act! WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN?? Stay tuned to find out:P


	12. Chapter 12

Walt stood in the middle of the room with all of its gently thrumming machines, staring slack-jawed at Gus Fring.

 

“My new _lab_? What the hell are you talking about? What _is_ this place?” he demanded, speaking forcefully to cover up the way his heart was racing.

 

“This is just one of my many business ventures, Mr. White. One you have been involved with yourself for the past year, however indirectly,” said Gus in an easy tone.

 

Walt stared at him. “You’re the one I spoke to. That first time. The one I sent my CV to. You put me in touch…with _him_ ,” he said, flinging an arm towards Gale who was still sputtering. “ _He’s_ the one I’ve been giving ‘chemistry advice’ to?”

 

“Creating networks is only a small part of what I do, but yes, from time to time I’ll make the necessary introductions when I believe it will be beneficial,” said Gus, folding his hands in front of him.

 

“What do you mean, I…you’re not a principal. Who _are_ you?” asked Walt to Gus, with a certain amount of unease.

 

Gus just smiled. “I’m a businessman, Mr. White.”

 

Walt threw his hands up. “That’s right. Your chicken business. Is this a joke? You’re some kind of fry-cook principal by day, meth dealer by night? Is that where we are now, below some restaurant of yours?” He laughed a bit manically but he was feeling slightly hysterical. “Is someone buying chicken nuggets over my head right now? Is the meth _in_ the chicken nuggets? Is that the secret ingredient? Oh this is too good. And what the _hell,_ what are you doing as a principal for…for _kids_?” Walt burst out.

 

“I find that a certain degree of community involvement is helpful in my line of work,” said Gus. “A restaurant provides an excellent cover for one’s financial image. But for one’s _ethical_ image,” he smiled a bit ironically, “who suspects the educator?”

 

“So what, you just get teachers to do your work for you? No one has to suspect a thing, is that it?” Walt was still reeling because what was going _on_?

 

“I met Gale through circumstances not unlike your own, Mr. White,” said Gus. “When you sent me your resume – and you should be much more cautious about the trails you leave online  - I realized that you both worked at J. P. Wynne. And when I heard there was talk about building an elementary school that needed financing…well the whole opportunity was too convenient to pass up. I like to keep a close eye on everyone who works for me.”

 

“So _you_ ,” said Walt, whirling around to face Gale. “Work for _this_ guy?”

 

“Oh and you’re one to talk?” exclaimed Gale, who had been silent this whole time.

 

“We never actually _met_ , I didn’t know who he was and that a principal was in charge of a _meth_ lab, but _you_ sure seem to know all about it,” scoffed Walt.

 

“Gale is the actual cook, Mr. White. We would have to have had more on-site interactions. However you’ve fulfilled your role as a consultant most adequately, I must say,” said Gus patiently.

 

“ _Adequately_?” laughed Walt in disbelief. “He wouldn’t have gotten anything done without me! Do you know how many messages I get from ‘Seth’ every day? And _Seth_ ,” he sneered, looking back at Gale. “What kind of a name is Seth?”

 

Gale squirmed. “It’s based on the spelling of ‘Cithara’.” Walt looked at him blankly. “The Cithara Quartet? Quartetto Cetra? I’ve played you their CD,” he said somewhat wounded.

 

Walt couldn’t even begin to rationalize any of what he was hearing. “That is the dumbest pseudonym I’ve ever heard.” He was maybe losing the plot a little, but come on, what meth-cooking, Italian quartet-referencing world had he stumbled into here?

 

“At least it sounds like a _normal_ name!” said Gale. “What kind of pseudonym is _Heisenberg_?”

 

Walt still couldn’t get past it. “And it’s pronounced _ki_ -thara. Why would you base it on the spelling and not the pronunciation? You could have been ‘Keith’ or I don’t know…”

 

Gale’s eye twitched. “That’s not…it doesn’t…you call yourself _Heisenberg_!” he exploded. He turned to face Gus. “And that’s another thing! You knew who he was this whole time? You let me go into work all semester without knowing the consultant was just down the hall? Oh my god,” he said, eyes growing wide. “The production delay. I was trying to get a hold of ‘Heisenberg’ for four days but he couldn’t get back to me because he was stuck on a mountain in a _field trip_ and you _knew_! How could you have let me worry like that?”

 

Walt remembered how his phone had been bombarded with messages when he’d gotten back. And with a start he remembered several other instances in which ‘Seth’ had been more questioning than usual, and it had coincided with frazzled behavior from Gale at work.

 

Gus adjusted a cufflink but he looked like he was beginning to become impatient. “It didn’t seem necessary for you two to be aware of each other until now.”

 

“Why now?”

 

“Because I believe it would be the most prudent course of action if you and Gale began actually working together. It would be easier to keep track of you, Mr. White, and I believe Gale would appreciate the guidance.”

 

Gale made a sound of protest. “I set up this entire lab,” he insisted.

 

“You set it up?” sneered Walt. He mimed like he was texting someone. “Oh Heisenberg, where does the tubing connect, what kind of trays should I use, how many paces should the freezer be from the vat, which hand should I use to wipe my – “

 

“ – we’re beginning to get off track,” said Gus, in a slightly raised tone. “I’d like to revisit my offer to you, Mr. White. This could be your lab - ” Gale made an indignant noise “ – and you and Gale working together could yield twice the amount we are producing now.”

 

“What? I, what? You know what, _no_ ,” said Walt incredulously. “I messaged today wanting to get _out_ of this, not wanting a promotion.”

 

“I am aware,” said Gus. “But you haven’t heard my entire offer.”

 

He named a sum that was so large that Walt felt his head spin. When he thought about how much he had struggled as an adult, him and his family, just to make ends meet…and then people like Gus could just go and name an amount like that like it was _nothing_ to them…

 

He already had money from this. More of it than he ever thought he’d see in his life. True he hadn’t used it for much besides his treatment and supporting his family’s basic needs, but…Walt was suddenly tempted by the idea of more.

 

He thought about how much the word ‘more’ had always seemed to elude him, taunt him. Walt had spent so much time just _settling_ , letting people use him as a doormat, lying there collecting dust. He thought about the kind of opportunities he could have with this. The chance to rise above, the chance to reach for something bigger than him, something _more_.

 

And then he thought about Jesse.

 

Jesse and the way he laughed whenever Walt teased him, Jesse smiling with delight when one of his students showed even marginal signs of improvement, Jesse crying in Walt’s arms when someone else was having a rough time, Jesse letting Walt know when he was being an idiot, Jesse curling his hands into the fabric of Walt’s shirt as he kissed him…

 

And Jesse who had picked himself up from nothing to become the kind of person who would first listen to the offer Walt was hearing now, and proceed to laugh right in its face because _Jesse_ was more, more than Walt could ever deserve.

 

Walt steeled himself and looked Gus directly in the eye. “The answer’s still no.”

 

Gus blinked. “You surprise me, Mr. White. I’m not often surprised by people.”

 

Walt shrugged. “Apparently I’m full of ‘em.”

 

Gus frowned. “I must say I am disappointed in your answer.”

 

Walt didn’t say anything.

 

Gus advanced towards him, and out of the corner of his eye Walt saw Gale casually back away from where they were standing. “I’d strongly advise you to reconsider, Mr. White.”

 

“And I’d strongly advise you to _back off_ ,” said Walt with a confidence he didn’t feel one bit. “With what I know about your organization what’s to stop me from turning all of you in? I have a brother-in-law who works for the DEA,” he added somewhat desperately.

 

“I am aware,” said Gus, raising an eyebrow. “And what would he say if he knew his _own_ brother-in-law’s role in this? You say I have no right to work in a school for what I do, but you’re a hypocrite, Mr. White. What have you been doing this whole time?”

 

Walt was silent for a moment before saying words he’d heard someone once say, someone who was a lot smarter than he seemed: “I’m doing it right this time.”

 

“Well be very careful that the decision you make is indeed the right one, Mr. White,” said Gus, pleasantly. “And keep in mind we have records of all of your communications with Gale. It is in your best interests for those to remain confidential. And not just for your safety. For your family as well. For Jesse Pinkman,” he added, casting a meaningful glance at Walt.

 

Walt fought down a boiling rage. “They stay out of this. Don’t you dare mention my family, or – or Jesse.”

 

“Then I suggest you tread lightly,” said Gus easily. “And think very carefully before you refuse my offer.”

 

Walt’s mind was racing. He had to get out of here. “I need time to think about it.”

 

Gus looked like he was about to argue but he snapped his mouth shut. “Fine. You have the weekend to reconsider. We restart production on Monday which is when I’ll expect your answer. And I expect it to be the right one.”

 

Walt’s heart was pounding but he fought to not break eye-contact with Gus first. That plan was sort of ruined when for the second time that day his vision was blotted out by a bag being thrown over his head.

 

“My apologies, Mr. White,” he heard Gus’ voice saying through the cloth. “Simply a formality.”

 

Walt felt himself being hustled away by a pair of arms. But then he heard Gale’s voice calling out, “Wait!”

 

The arms turned him around to face where Walt assumed Gale was standing.

 

Gale’s voice sounded meek. “As long as you’re here…” Walt rolled his eyes even though he knew that Gale couldn’t see it. “…what temperature should I be setting for the main tank on stage thirteen?”

 

Walt answered on reflex. “Seventy-five, Gale, you asked me that weeks ago,” he said exasperatedly, like they were back at school and Gale was asking Walt about grading curves. And then he almost kicked himself. Saying he wanted out and then offering more advice…well done, Walt.

 

And then the arms hustled him back up the stairs, through a maze of rooms, back into a van and through the streets, where finally they squealed to a stop, yanked the bag off Walt’s head, and pushed him out onto the sidewalk before taking off again.

 

Walt swayed on the spot, staring back at the front gates of J.P. Wynne. He didn’t even think he’d been gone an hour.

 

And then as he heard the warning bell go from where he was standing, he started to half-jog back towards the school.

 

What do you know. Kidnapped, threatened and coerced by drug dealers, and Walter White was still on time for class.

 

***

 

Walt couldn’t have possibly said what happened in his classes that afternoon. He tried to teach something but his hands kept shaking too much for him to write on the board. Eventually he just gave up and said ‘free period’. What the hell, it was a Friday.

 

While his students all sat on their desks – and what was up with that, how the second students had the option, their desks became infinitely more appealing surfaces than chairs – and chatted excitedly about their upcoming weekends, Walt took out his phone to text Jesse under his desk.

 

_Meet after school?_

He didn’t have to wait long before his phone was buzzing back. Jesse’s students must have been doing silent individual work at their desks, it was the only time Jesse ever texted while he was in the classroom. Walt had a moment to appreciate the fact that Jesse had apparently managed to get a group of kindergarteners to calm down enough for silent work on a Friday afternoon, something even seasoned teachers had trouble doing. He smiled and read the text:

 

_Definitely!_

Walt hastily typed out a reply:

 

 _Ok, but not in your classroom. Meet at the west entrance, we’ll go to the park_.

 

Gale’s classroom was of course empty, since Gale was off wherever cooking _meth_ , as he apparently did on his breaks. Jesus, when had Gale decided he couldn’t be satisfied with brewing coffee? And how had he even gotten mixed up with this Gus Fring, whoever he was? Probably the same way Walt had. Wanting validation, Walt thought ruefully.

 

He felt a twinge of guilt for how much he used to belittle Gale, but Gale was a grown man who could make his own choices. He’d chosen to work with Gus, but Walt couldn’t help feeling that he was in way over his head.

 

And Gus. Walt had no idea where he’d been taken to see him, but hell if he’d chance bumping into him back on the elementary side, after school was finished. Especially not when he was going to be with Jesse.

 

 _Jesse_. Walt’s hand clenched at the thought of his name coming from Gus’ mouth. His top priority was keeping Jesse as far away from Gus as possible.

 

He breathed a sigh of relief when Jesse texted him back, agreeing to meet at a different exit.

 

When _finally_ the bell rang, Walt high-tailed it over to the west side of the school and waited anxiously for Jesse. When Jesse arrived shortly after him, Walt was practically hauling him away before Jesse even had a chance to open his mouth. He felt the need to get Jesse as far away from the school as he could before Gus came back.

 

They walked through the nearby park as Jesse filled him in on his day. Walt was barely listening, and just hummed wherever he thought Jesse was waiting for agreement, casting his eyes around suspiciously like someone was about to drop from a tree.

 

Finally Jesse stopped walking and reached out to grab Mr. White’s elbow, swinging him towards him.

 

“Hey,” he laughed. “I know it’s apparently a big step for you to go out for coffee like a normal person instead of accosting people in their classrooms, but dude, I didn’t think you’d actually be nervous.”

 

He reached up to brush Walt’s chin with his thumb. And guiding Walt’s face towards him he leaned up and kissed him gently.

 

Walt couldn’t help the way his hands immediately went for Jesse’s face so he could draw him in deeper and kiss him back. He felt his tension slowly begin to ebb away, his thoughts full of Jesse, Jesse agreeing to go to coffee with him, Jesse telling him he had no choice than to be with Walt, Jesse being threatened by Gus –

 

\- Walt’s mind screeched to a halt and he pulled back from Jesse, reeling slightly. Jesse’s forehead creased at Walt’s reaction.

 

“Dude, you okay?” asked Jesse.

 

“I – I need to talk to you about something. Look, can we just sit here for a few minutes?” Walt pulled Jesse over to a park bench, and Jesse let himself be guided, still confused.

 

“Okay what is it?” Jesse frowned.

 

“It’s,” Walt rubbed the back of his head, letting out a breath. He did _not_ want to do this, he really really didn’t want to do this but…Jesse deserved to know. “Look there’s something I haven’t told you about me.”

 

Jesse was looking at him quizzically. He placed a hand on Walt’s knee like he was trying to put _Walt_ at ease, like Walt wasn’t about to drop a bombshell on him.

 

“You didn’t know me when I first had my diagnosis,” Walt began, and Jesse’s face was sympathetic. Walt couldn’t bear it.

 

“It’s important for you to know that I’m _not_ the same person I was back then, I’m really not. And _so_ much of that is only because of you, Jesse, you have no idea. But I…I got into some things that don’t even seem like they should be possible…”

 

And Walt told him the whole story, starting from the ad he’d found online, to sending advice through messages…when he got to the part about meth he felt Jesse’s hand slip off of his knee.

 

When he finally reached the events of the afternoon, including Gus and Gale, Jesse was staring at him positively stunned, but there was a hint of distaste in there as well. Walt wanted to think it was because of the story and not at Walt himself but…how could he know?

 

“You’re bullshitting me,” Jesse said blankly.

 

“I wish I were, Jesse, believe me,” said Walt a bit weakly. Oh god, why had he done this. Jesse had opened up to him about his past and it was only fair that Walt did the same. But did Jesse have to be looking at him like that?

 

“I can’t…I can’t believe it,” said Jesse. “You’re _seriously_ telling me my boss is secretly a drug dealer, people on your staff are his cooks, and my place of work, my _school_ was only financed and built so some guy could launder his money and make himself look squeaky clean?”

 

“I know how it sounds, Jesse, but would I make that up?” asked Walt, spreading his hands helplessly.

 

Jesse leaned back against the bench. He seemed in a state of shock but Walt could see he was thinking about it.

 

“And what about you,” said Jesse quietly.

 

“What about me?”

 

Jesse turned to him, eyes dejected. “You knew about it? Not Gus or anything, but like. When you didn’t know who it was you were messaging…you still knew what you were doing?”

 

“Well technically no one ever said the word meth,” Walt began, but broke off leaning forward on the bench, his eyes downcast. “But yes. I knew what I was doing.”

 

Jesse sat in silence and Walt said, “But that’s not the worst part.” He wanted so badly not to say what he was about to say, but he owed it to Jesse. “It’s been going on for over a year, and now we know that the production is local and, and timing-wise…Jesse I can’t say for certain but it’s extremely likely that I consulted on the batch of meth that…found its way to you when you relapsed,” he finished, barely able to get the words out. Walt couldn’t even look at Jesse.

 

Jesse was quiet for a long time. Finally he said, “Why are you telling me this?”

 

“Because...because you deserve to know this about me, Jesse,” Walt said.

 

“Well what if you hadn’t been taken there today?” asked Jesse. “What if they hadn’t given you this weekend to come to a conclusion? Were you ever going to _tell_ me?”

 

Jesse had raised his voice, but the worst part was, he didn’t even sound angry at Walt. He just sounded totally in despair.

 

“I…I don’t know Jesse, I think so. I mean I’m telling you now!” said Walt.

 

“You…you called me a stoner, you, you _yelled_ at me when I told you about the drugs, and that whole time you were telling somebody how to _make_ them?” asked Jesse in disbelief, looking everywhere but at Walt, like he didn’t want to reconcile what he was saying with the man who was beside him.

 

“I’m so sorry. What else can I say?” asked Walt helplessly. “I was wrong, I _know_ that, but, please Jesse, just look at me,” Walt said. Jesse turned his eyes on him and Walt almost flinched at how hurt they were.

 

“There is _no_ justifying what I did,” said Walt. “Not even when it was to pay for treatment, because then I _did_ pay for my treatment and…still kept doing it. On some level I probably liked it,” he said quietly.

 

“But ever since I met you, Jesse, I’ve…I’ve hated it. The whole thing. You should have seen how I used to respond to them immediately, but this semester all I’d been thinking about was how to avoid the whole entire business,” Walt rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I…I found better things, Jesse, I found _you_. You have no idea of the influence you have on me Jesse, _none_. The whole time I was refusing them today I was only thinking about you. Not even my family, Jesse, just…you.”

 

Jesse couldn’t speak for a minute. “Mr. White, this is…you’re telling me a lot of stuff here. I mean, I _do_ believe you, and…I even believe you really wanted to change but it’s just,” he swallowed. “I feel like I’ve already _been_ through this shit and it’s just. It’s just a lot to process now, you know?”

 

Walt felt his heart breaking.

 

“I know, Jesse, and…if you need time…”

 

Jesse snorted. “It doesn’t sound to you like time is running out? What did they say, you have a weekend to think about your answer?”

 

“There’s nothing to _think_ about, the answer is no!” said Walt. “I don’t want anything they have to offer me. All I want is you,” he said, turning to Jesse desperately. “Jesse, I love – “

 

“ – _don’t_ ,” said Jesse closing his eyes. “Just don’t say it.”

 

“But it’s true,” said Walt softly.

 

“Maybe,” said Jesse, and he looked at Walt regretfully. “But if you say it then I’ll always have to wonder if it was just to keep me here.”

 

They sat in silence for a long time on the park bench, not looking at each other. Walt could hardly bear it. Even when Jesse was angry with him it was usually accompanied by a lot of shouting, or at least a raised voice. He couldn’t stand this, this silence. It wasn’t them. And this was not the meeting Walt had had in mind when he’d gone to Jesse’s classroom that morning, what now felt like a lifetime ago.

 

“Jesse,” he said, tilting his head towards Jesse, who was hunched over, staring at the ground. Jesse didn’t move but Walt knew he was listening.

 

“I know this is an awful lot for you to think about, and…and I don’t blame you at all if you’re not sure about me anymore.” Jesse’s jaw clenched and Walt had to struggle to keep from touching him. “But I’m telling you all this because…because I owe it to you. You deserve to hear it.”

 

Walt leaned forward to be more on Jesse’s level. He said in a low voice, “And this all happened today because I told them no. I wanted out so I could be with you. And…if you let me, I will spend the _rest_ of my life making it up to you. You’re it for me, Jesse.”

 

Jesse turned to him desperately. Walt was aching to lean in, rest his forehead against Jesse’s, but he stayed still, where he was.

 

“Mr. White I…I have to think about this,” he said quietly. “Don’t think I don’t want this, don’t want _you_ for a second but…you have no idea how hard it is to get out of that stuff. And I _did_ get out. That life is behind me but…I just have to make sure I always keep a head start, you know?”

 

Walt did know. And he hated the fact that Jesse had any reason whatsoever to think Walt would ever drag him back.

 

“And my god I want to be with you, I really do,” said Jesse. His hand flexed as though reaching for Walt, but he squeezed his fingers closed. “You don’t even know how much I think about it, it’s ridiculous. How much I think about being with you, growing old with you, taking care of you,” Jesse blinked rapidly, his eyes suddenly growing wet, and Walt couldn’t help the tightness that was squeezing his throat. “But I just…sometimes I forget to take care of me.”

 

Jesse finally turned his eyes on Walt, who couldn’t say anything. So he just nodded, staring at Jesse like he might not get another chance.

 

Jesse straightened up finally. “It looks like we both have things to think about this weekend,” he mumbled.

 

Walt swallowed. “You will…let me know though, won’t you?”

 

Jesse smiled sadly. “Yeah I mean. You’ll be seeing me Monday either way, so. So I guess…I guess I’ll see you,” he said. And very slowly he stood up from the park bench.

 

Walt didn’t want to let him go, every muscle in his body was screaming at him to get up, get up and grab this last chance of happiness, this last chance of a life worth living that he’d ever have. Letting Jesse turn away was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life.

 

But as Jesse started to walk away, Walt couldn’t resist calling after him.

 

“Jesse!”

 

Jesse turned around reluctantly, like he was expecting Walt to say something that would only make leaving him harder.

 

Walt just gazed at him, still sitting on the bench. “Just…be careful, okay?”

 

Jesse bit his lip. “Yeah, you too.”

 

He was shifting his feet and seemed to be resisting the urge to run back towards Mr. White, hold onto him and never let him go.

 

But finally he tore himself away and walked through the park, his figure becoming more and more obscured by the trees, until he was gone altogether, swallowed up by the green.

 

Walt’s vision became blurred and he blinked angrily at himself, reaching up to rub his eyes. Oh god, if he lost this…

 

He wanted to regret telling Jesse.

 

But mostly he regretted how long it had been in his life since he’d made the harder choice, made the right choice.

 

Because he’d forgotten just how much doing the right thing could actually _hurt_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh I'm so sorry.
> 
> BUT OKAY SO HERE'S THE DEAL  
> \- This week for some reason I got roped into a social life, omg I know right. I really wanted to have this fic done this week (because 3 acts in 3 weeks would have been cool!) but I'm having my cousins in from out of town since we're going to a music festival this weekend (maybe we'll see Aaron Paul!) and since I'm playing hostess for them at my apartment I donnnn't think it's going to happen.  
> \- I WILL STILL WRITE ABSOLUTELY WHENEVER I CAN THIS WEEK!! I just wouldn't expect the daily updates  
> \- And omg guys the last 3 chapters have so much action and I don't want to do a half-assed job of wrapping things up (no half measures!)  
> \- SO IF YOU DON'T SEE UPDATES THIS WEEK rest assured that afterwards they should be ready to go at the normal pace!!  
> \- and in the meantime THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR LOVELY COMMENTS!! If this chapter was too dismal omg I'm so sorry, I recommend rereading chapter 9, that one's cute, don't hate me XOXO
> 
> (also P.S. does the fact that I ramble after so many of these chapters ruin the ambience? Haha in this instance I just wanted to make sure you guys knew I wasn't leaving you hanging intentionally:P)


	13. Chapter 13

Walt couldn’t stop sending anxious looks to clock on the wall of his classroom. Every tick sounded like a gunshot.

 

It was Monday morning, first period, and Walt was back at J.P. Wynne with his grade sevens who were in the middle of writing a test. Walt was fighting to keep his hands still, completely on edge, his mind racing at a thousand miles a minute. Every so often a student would raise their hand with a question, someone would cough, or a pencil would scratch against paper and he’d be jolted out of his trance.

 

But other than that Walt was just trying to breathe normally and not make it too obvious to his students that he was fighting off waves of panic as he sat at his desk right in front of them.

 

Gus was expecting Walt’s answer by the end of the school day, but he wasn’t going to get it. Because the second that the bell rang for recess, Walt was locking his classroom, grabbing Junior at his locker, and going to get Jesse no matter how he still felt about Walt after the weekend. They were getting out of this place.

 

He’d pick up Skyler and Holly on the way. No one would have a clue what was going on except possibly Jesse, but the important thing was getting them out of there. Albuquerque and J.P. Wynne? As long as there were people on its staff that had anything to do with the drug trade, Walt wasn’t coming back, and hell if he’d let his family.

 

The weekend had passed by in the most frenetic haze Walt had ever experienced. He felt like he was just _waiting_ , waiting for someone to show up for him and his family, waiting for Gus to change his mind about giving Walt time, and deciding to give him more…incentive.

 

Walt felt like he _could_ believe Gus when he’d said he’d allow Walt one weekend to think about if he would cook with him and Gale. Of course this could be beyond naïve thinking from Walt, the idea that he could take a drug dealer at his word. But somehow despite his paranoia, Walt was still reasonably confident that he really did have a weekend’s grace period.

 

He was counting on it.

 

Because as it happened, Walt did have something of a plan.

 

It wasn’t much. But when Walt had been held in Gus’ underground lab, he’d picked up on something Gus had said:

 

 _“We restart production on Monday_.”

 

Restart…it could have just been a slip of the tongue, or a product of Gus’ second language. But Walt was willing to bet they wouldn’t be cooking at all over the weekend. Did Gale need more training from Walt? Was the meth he’d been cooking solo not meeting a standard of Gus’?  

 

It didn’t matter. It wasn’t Walt’s business, no matter how much they wanted to make it so.

 

But then as he’d been about to leave the lab, Gale had called after Walt, asking about a temperature setting. Walt’s reply had been instantaneous:

 

_“Seventy-five, Gale, you asked me that weeks ago.”_

Walt had lied. The temperature Gale really wanted was eighty-five. But with the high speed of a mind that was gifted in finding solutions, an idea had hit Walt in a space that was shorter than a breath. A breath he hadn’t even needed before he was answering Gale, telling him to set the main tank for seventy-five degrees.

 

Degrees were everything in chemistry, but so was timing. If Gale caught the mistake right away, the worst that could happen is that the batch he’d be working on would be useless, and sent to the drain.

 

But if Gale _didn’t_ notice and it were left long enough at that temperature – and this was all counting on him still having blind faith in everything Walt had to say – then eventually he’d be rushing around, turning off the machines, and following all the lab procedures put in place in case of a potential melt-down.

 

It wasn’t _really_ dangerous. It would just be extremely stressful for Gale. And he’d probably alert Gus who would have to assess the damage, take stock of the situation and deal with a delayed batch. They’d be forced to deal with it, probably for the rest of the morning.

 

Walt had come in for his first class as a way of not alerting their suspicions. He had no idea where it was they did their cooking, but he imagined someone was keeping an eye on his activity. But hopefully they’d have enough to keep them occupied in the lab to forget about Walt and the answer they were expecting. And by the time they realized that someone should be on that again, Walt would be gone, out the backdoor, taking Jesse and Junior with him, and anyone else Gus had indirectly threatened if Walt were to refuse his offer.

 

Walt’s best plans, spur-of-the-moment though they could sometimes be, usually involved at least _some_ measure of forethought. But here, Walt was telling Gale the wrong temperature before his mind had even begun to catch up to itself.

 

In a heart-pounding flash of ‘what if’, he’d hurled his plan into the void of this Monday morning. And hopefully Gale would be there to obliviously catch it.

 

Some plan. Walt couldn’t help but think it was more reminiscent of Jesse’s headfirst approach to ideas than his.

 

Walt felt his stomach clench at the thought of Jesse. Jesse who probably imagined that Walt was spending his weekend wondering if he should accept Gus’ offer, as though there was really anything to consider. He’d basically spent the weekend alternating between affirmative action like putting together a go-bag for this morning that was currently stashed in his car in the parking lot, and trying to get his breath back every time he even imagined something happening to the people he loved, because of him.

 

Even if Walt hadn’t arrived at the point where he thought this ‘hobby’ was wrong himself, it didn’t matter because Jesse thought it was wrong. And if Walt had the choice between losing Jesse or keeping him? Well that wasn’t even a choice at all.

 

Walt fought down another wave of anxiety to do with Jesse. Here he was, thinking of all the ways to have a future with Jesse when there was no guarantee that Jesse would even want one with him anymore. Well that was always something they could discuss later. In the car. Getting out of dodge, whether Jesse wanted to or not. He could argue, he could tell Walt he hated him, he could swear up and down that this meant that they’d never be together, but it didn’t matter. Walt could deal with Jesse hating him if the alternative was that Jesse was dead.

 

“Mr. White?”

 

Walt’s head snapped up and he relaxed somewhat when he saw it was just one of his students with her hand up for help on a question. Apparently she’d been holding it up for a while but Walt hadn’t noticed, wrapped up as he was in thoughts of his family, and where they’d all be a few hours from now.

 

Walt got up to head over to the girl and hear her question. But as he made his way between the desks, he was so tightly-wound that he almost jumped out of his _skin_ when the fire alarm went off in the hall, right outside the door.

 

“Pencils down and line up,” barked Walt as he quickly paced back to his desk to grab the attendance sheet he’d need outside in the playground. He wanted to _scream_. Of all the days for a fire drill, _why_ did it have to be this one? Teachers always knew when the semester’s first fire drill would be, and they’d already had that one. But they weren’t informed about the second one, so they could be tested on following evacuation procedure as well. And for some reason they needed to be tested today, when Walt was counting on his slipping out unnoticed.

 

But…maybe this was a blessing Walt thought, as he held the door open for his students to file out into the hall, so he could be the last to leave. With all the people who’d be amassed outside and the confusion that was sure to follow when they were allowed to file back in, maybe this would be the ideal time to find both Junior and Jesse on the playground and get out of there?

 

As Walt lead his students through the halls, he felt a mild apprehension. Teachers weren’t quickly but calmly leading students through the halls towards the main emergency exit, as per protocol. There was more rushing students along with frantic gestures and strained expressions. Walt only got more nervous the closer they got to the emergency exit. He couldn’t smell any smoke but the hallway was still filled with the pounding of feet, as people tried to reach the exit in a way that didn’t involve all-out sprinting. And when Walt saw _Carmen_ making her way through the hall, ushering students along in front of her then he immediately took it more seriously. Maybe it wasn’t a drill after all?

 

They poured out into the main playground, everyone lining up according to the classes they’d just been in. Walt waved his clipboard, attracting the grade sevens he’d just had. He was going through the attendance when he happened to glance across the courtyard over to J.P. Wynne Jr. His heart almost stopped when he saw the smoke that was wafting from the lower windows.

 

Both schools were on the same alarm system, which is why Walt was still standing out here although he hadn’t seen anything suspicious on his side. But that didn’t mean that there wasn’t apparently a real problem over where Jesse was –

 

\- oh god, Jesse. Walt wanted nothing more than to run over there to where all the elementary students were gathering outside, just to _see_ Jesse, get a glimpse, but he had to finish with his attendance first.

 

He had just completed the list confirming that everyone in his class had made it out, when all of a sudden a deafening BOOM ripped its way across the courtyard.

 

Everyone immediately staggered forward, hunched over from the shock of the blast. Walt’s ears were ringing and he felt his head spin. He managed to straighten up, and look over at the elementary school where the blast had came from. Before he’d only seen smoke. But now there was definitely fire.

 

In Jesse’ school.

 

Walt took a step towards the school when all of a sudden he stopped in his tracks, feeling like he’d been doused with ice water.

 

His hand clenched involuntarily as he took in a deep, dizzying breath, horrified panic spreading through his veins.

 

Because in a second it had all become clear.

 

The way the meth lab was designed to look like a generic boiler room.

 

The ugly grey of its walls that matched the ones he’d seen when he’d gotten lost in the basement of Jesse’s school.

 

Seeing Gus wandering those corridors by himself.

 

The headaches Jesse had been getting in class that he’d once compared to the symptoms of withdrawal.

 

And how if the temperature Walt had advised really had gone unnoticed, it could potentially lead to an explosion in the lab.

 

The meth lab that had been built right underneath Jesse’s classroom.

 

Walt was off like a shot across the courtyard before he’d even finished the thought.

 

He was fighting down the urge to scream, somehow blot out the roaring in his ears as he fought his way through the people all crowding in the elementary playground, moving away from the school and the flames now licking its sides, in case there was another explosion.

 

Jesse Jesse _where the hell was Jesse._

 

Walt rushed over to a little girl with pigtails he recognized as being one of Jesse’s students. _Yes_ , there was the rest of his class standing together, but, but where was _Jesse_?

 

“Angela,” he said breathlessly, dropping to his knees beside the girl, breathing heavily. “Where’s Mr. Jesse, where is he.”

 

She looked at him eyes wide, lip trembling. “He went back in,” she said tremulously.

 

Walt felt as though he’d been kicked in the chest. “No. No no no, Angela no he didn’t, _where is he_?”

 

She looked at him frightened, not from his reaction, but frightened for her teacher. “He brought us out but Brock wasn’t here,” she said in a tiny, scared voice, about her classmate. “He got stuck and Jesse ran back in so he could – “

 

Walt was tearing across the playground to the school, throwing off the hands that reached out trying to grab him, before he’d even heard the rest of her sentence.

 

He got to the door of the school he now knew as the quickest way of getting to Jesse’s class, after getting lost that first time. It was a straight shot down a wide hallway but he could feel the heat from here.

 

With beads of sweat already beginning to form on his forehead, he braced himself against the heat, covered his mouth with his sleeve, and ran in.

 

He didn’t even stop to think as he pounded through the deserted hallway that was rapidly clouding with smoke. His thoughts were ‘Jesse,’ ‘get there,’ and ‘fast.’ He didn’t even bother to be scared, he just had to get to Jesse.

 

He burst through the door of Jesse’s classroom and his eyes immediately started stinging. There was even more smoke in here, denser and thicker, and – oh please no – almost chemical in its scent. He cast his eyes around wildly, trying not to think about the tongues of flame that were crackling in the walls as he looked for –

 

“Jesse!” he yelled, seeing his figure crouched by a bookshelf, straining to move it to release a child that was trapped behind it. Walt ran over and knelt beside him.

 

“I can’t move it!” cried Jesse desperately, turning his face that was streaked with ash and sweat towards Walt.

 

“Move over,” Walt commanded, reaching for a corner of the shelf. Jesse immediately shuffled over.

 

“Count of three,” Walt said, looking at him. Jesse nodded. “One, two, THREE.”

 

The pulled the bookshelf forward, Walt’s added weight bringing it forward with a screech, and the kid – Brock – scrambled out.

 

Walt was straining against the weight of the bookshelf that they had dislodged, since their combined strength had caused it to sway forward. He was just about to yell for Jesse to catch it when its momentum finally pulled it down –

 

\- where it landed with a crash right on top of Jesse.

 

With a surge of dread Walt rushed to his side to begin pulling at the shelf again but Jesse, pinned where he was under it, angrily flung his arm out, waving off Walt.

 

“Get him out of here!” he shouted about Brock.

 

Walt looked towards the kid in dismay, who was standing there watching his teacher trapped, panic written all over his face. He turned back towards Jesse.

 

“Jesse you’re stuck I can help you, just give me a second,” he said frantically, reaching for the shelf again.

 

“MR. WHITE,” yelled Jesse, above the roar of the fire that was only getting more pronounced. His eyes were scared but his voice commanded authority. “We don’t _have_ a second just _get him out of here_.”

 

Walt felt his heart sink in cold despair when he realized he didn’t have a choice.

 

“Jesse…” he whispered, as he locked eyes with Jesse, trapped against the floor, who was staring at Mr. White with just as much desperation while the room burned around them.

 

“Mr. White,” he said, attempting an encouraging smile that instantly vanished when a window exploded with a shatter and wind rushed in, only feeding the flames. “It’s gonna be okay.”

 

Walt felt himself rip open inside and he squeezed his eyes shut, turned away, grabbed the kid, and fled the classroom.

 

They made it out into the hall and Walt began to run the way he’d came and oh my god this kid had to stop _struggling_.

 

“Put me _down_ ,” Brock said, as he managed to wrench himself out of Walt’s grip, where he landed on the hot floor tiles.

 

Walt bent down to grab him again but the kid smacked him off.

 

“I can see the exit, I can make it,” he said earnestly. Walt looked at him in hesitation. “You have to go get him.”

 

Walt stared at the kid. And then in one decisive moment he nodded, and shoved Brock towards the exit, and turned on his heel back towards Jesse’s classroom. He _made_ himself stop at the door so he could turn around and check on Brock. He squinted through the smoke – oh god his lungs were _burning_ \- and…and yes, there was his figure, pushing the door open as some daylight briefly cut though the haze in the hall. And with a wave at Mr. White he was out the door.

 

Walt held his breath and rushed back into the classroom.

 

He skidded to a stop in front of the bookshelf where Jesse still lay, struggling against its weight, and dropped down beside him, grabbing the bookshelf.

 

“Dude, what are you doing here?” asked Jesse in alarm.

 

“He’s out, it’s ok, Jesse, he’s fine,” said Walt frantically, trying not to cough, casting his eyes over the shelf and trying to figure out the best place to get a grip.

 

“Shouldn’t people recovering from lung cancer not be running around into fires?” Jesse joked weakly, his face shining from the heat.

 

Walt almost laughed in pure adrenaline but sucked in a breath of smoke and immediately started hacking.

 

When he pulled himself together it was to Jesse watching him in anguish.

 

“I’m _fine_ ,” Walt said. “Okay I’m going to move it here and you’re going to push up and slide out and I don’t want to hear that you don’t have enough space because you are the single scrawniest person I’ve ever met, so one, two, three, go _now_ , Jesse!”

 

Jesse managed to pull himself out and Walt let go of the bookshelf with a crash where it fell beside Jesse who was gasping for air on the floor beside it.

 

“Okay now you just put your arms around me, Jesse, you’re gonna stand up and we’re gonna walk out of here, okay?” and Walt soothingly, saying anything that would get Jesse to his feet.

 

Leaning on each other they slowly made their way towards the door, pieces of the classroom falling in blazing chunks around them.

 

When they were almost at the door, Walt tried to draw a breath and couldn’t, and head swimming he collapsed to the floor.

 

Jesse crouched immediately beside him, still with Walt’s arm over his shoulder.

 

“ _Mr. White_ ,” he said, shaking him, gasping for air. “You gotta get up, come on we’re almost there it’s okay, just get up.”

 

Walt looked up at him dazed. In the darkness of the room full of black smoke and blazing red, Jesse’s eyes had never looked bluer.

 

And locking onto them, Walt reached up to stroke Jesse’s face, his fingers leaving a trail through the soot that was there. Jesse stared at him, eyes cutting through the smoke, his breath coming rapidly. Jesse lifted his hand and slowly reached out to place his palm over Walt’s chest.

 

Walt took in a final, deep breath:

 

“ _Run_.”

 

And that’s when the ceiling caved in.

 

 

***

 Beeping.

 

Soft skin against his hand.

 

White everywhere, so much white it _hurt_.

 

Slowly, drowsily, Walt blinked the room into focus.

 

The last thing he remembered was a roaring haze of red, lit up by blue, blue that had filled the rest of Walt’s gaze.

 

The sudden cut to this haze of white was almost painful against Walt’s eyes. Clenching his eyes shut he opened them again to what had to be a hospital room, with Skyler sitting beside him, holding onto his hand.

 

When he turned his head to hers she tried to smile at him. It looked like she’d been crying. Knowing her she’d probably first tried not to though.

 

“Hey you,” she said, getting up to wrap her arms around him. He squeezed her back, surprised at how little his arms hurt from lifting shelves, kids, Jesse…

 

“Jesse!” he shot up in alarm as it all came flooding back to him. Oh god the fire, _Jesse_.

 

“…is fine,” said Skyler sitting back down on the edge of the hospital bed, stroking Walt’s head.

 

Walt immediately unwound as he let out a breath. He closed his eyes in a silent thanks.

 

When he opened them again Skyler was staring at him, this time with a real smile.

 

“Really?” he couldn’t help himself from asking.

 

“Really,” she said, pulling her hand away and dropping it to his own again. “A few scrapes and burns but nothing major, same as you. You were so lucky, they got you out just in time. The doctors were mostly worried about any damage to your lungs.” She was still smiling but her lip was wobbling slightly. “Just like the good old days, huh?”

 

Her voiced cracked and Walt squeezed her hand.

 

“And the fire?” he asked tentatively. “Do we know…anything?” He swallowed drily.

 

Skyler bit her lip. “Walt I’m so sorry.” Walt fought to control his heart rate, sure she was going to tell him the police were outside and he was under arrest.

 

“Some of your coworkers were in the fire. Junior’s _teacher,_ Walt, I can’t believe it, and another from the elementary school, I forget his name…”

 

“Gus Fring?” Walt couldn’t help asking.

 

“That’s the one, the principal, how did you know?” she frowned at him. But then she looked hesitant again. “They…they found the bodies, Walt, I’m so sorry I know you worked with them…”

 

Walt leaned back against his pillow with a sigh. “That’s all?”

 

“That’s all,” she stroked the back of his hand with her thumb.

 

“So do they know what happened?” he asked casually.

 

Skyler took a breath. “They think it started in the boiler room. Something to do with the gas because there was an explosion. The fire started there and that’s where they found your cowork - the bodies. Or what was left,” she shuddered. “They said one of them didn’t even have a face anymore.”

 

Walt was…well he didn’t know how he felt. He felt a shock that was purely reactionary about Gale, someone he’d worked with for years. It was mixed with a tinge of regret and sympathy. He’d never liked him particularly but he was still a fairly well-meaning, innocent –

 

Walt shook his head, cutting off his own train of thought. Screw that. Gale had known exactly what he’d been doing. Walt was ashamed of the role he’d played and always would be. But at least he could say in all honesty that he wasn’t the one who’d knowingly chosen to cook drugs beneath a building full of _children_.

 

“So a boiler room explosion huh,” he said easily, not looking at Skyler.

 

She nodded. “I drove past on the way here. There was tape everywhere and I think I saw police, but apparently after having a look that’s what they’re calling it. I can’t believe they could have it built so dangerously in a _school_ , Walt, where you work!”

 

“Tell me about it,” he said somewhat absently. He was thinking back to some messages between him and Gale, back when the lab must have been set up. Walt had advised on a draining system but he didn’t see what they’d need it for.

 

But in the event of an emergency in the lab, was it possible that it had been set up so that any evidence would be immediately drained and flushed away, leaving behind no traces of illegal activity, just a boiler room that maybe smelled a little strange?

 

Was this the pragmatism of Gus Fring, serving him beyond from the grave?

 

And more importantly…was it possible Walt had gotten away with it?

 

Once he’d had the idea, Walt could only think of one thing.

 

“Jesse,” he said again, glancing back at Skyler. “Where is he?”

 

“On his way home but I don’t think he’s happy about it,” she said, with a touch of fondness. “He wouldn’t leave and I doubt he would have if the school hadn’t made him so that they could get his account of events. I had to promise I’d stay with you while he went home to shower and talk to the school who needed a statement from him about the fire. Something besides ‘it was hot’ which he tried the first time.”

 

Walt snorted, and he felt some life returning to his bones. Life, mingled with relief, mingled with the need to see Jesse this very second.

 

He sat up in bed, flinging the sheet off. Skyler’s eyes widened in alarm.

 

“You didn’t happen to bring a spare set of clothes, did you?” he quirked an eyebrow at her.

 

“I – I did, but Walt,” she sat up. “You’re not supposed to be leaving!”

 

He shrugged. “You said I’m in the same shape as Jesse, and he’s apparently allowed to be up.” He noticed as he stretched that he felt clean as well, no traces of soot or smoke anywhere.

 

“Well, yes, but should you really be leaving? He said he’d come back, shouldn’t you be resting?” she asked anxiously.

 

He gazed at her pleadingly. “I have to see him, Sky. I have to.”

 

She looked at him for a long moment. She then nodded decisively, reaching into the bag beside her to pull out a change of clothes.

 

“If you hadn’t said that I would have put you back in the hospital myself.”

 

 

***

 

Walt was in his car, absolutely gunning it as he made his way to Jesse’s. He’d only been there once before. Usually they did their work at Walt’s house but when Skyler had needed the house for a get together with her office, Jesse suggested his place and they’d relocated.

 

Walt had expected some kind of apartment, maybe a condo, not the large house that was apparently his aunt’s.

 

“I like it but I’m thinking of downsizing,” he’d told Walt. “Too many memories, you know?”

 

He’d only seen it the one time and forgot the address, but he was pretty sure he could find it again. It helped that all the streets were almost empty at this late hour, and that his route was lit up by green the entire way there. Walt decided to take it as a good omen.

 

The car radio was talking about J.P. Wynne, and tensely, Walt turned it up. An apparent gas leak had cause a fire in the elementary school resulting in two fatalities, the elementary principal Gustavo Fring, a community leader, and Gale Boetticher, a science teacher at the high school. There were no other fatalities and no students were significantly harmed.

 

Walt’s chest constricted to remember Jesse trapped, as the room burned around him. If anything had happened to him because of Walt…

 

Walt bit his lip and switched off the radio, pressing down a little harder on the gas. Unless they were going to mention one particular kindergarten teacher in the news report, then he really didn’t care. Jesse was okay and that was all that mattered.

 

Although it didn’t mean that Walt wasn’t practically suffocating to see it for himself.

 

He pulled into Jesse’s driveway, heart pounding as he switched off the car and opened his door in one movement. He ran up the walkway to Jesse’s door.

 

He was just lifting his hand to bang on the door but jolted when it was flung open by Jesse who looked like he was just in the process of running out. He stopped in his tracks and stared at Walt, his mouth hanging open.

 

Walt let out a breath it felt like he’d been holding in ever since he left the hospital as he took in Jesse standing in the doorway. Jesse with his cheeks flushed, his eyes dilating, his sudden intake of breath at seeing Walt, everything about him so overwhelmingly _alive_.

 

Relief rushed over him as he leaned his head against the doorway for a moment, closing his eyes.

 

 “Mr. White, are you okay? I was just on my way back to the hospital, shouldn’t you still be there? Are you alright?” asked Jesse alarmed. Walt couldn’t do anything besides nod. He opened his eyes to see Jesse staring at him, anxiously.

 

Jesse hesitantly reached out to Mr. White, like he wanted to touch him but didn’t know where. He settled his hand on Walt’s wrist gingerly, brushing it with his fingers like he was checking that his blood was still indeed pumping.

 

“I…,” Jesse spoke quietly. Walt opened his eyes, his pulse racing under the light touch of Jesse’s fingers.

 

“I was just coming back to you,” he said again, looking up at Walt like he was begging him to hear the other meaning.

 

Walt nodded and swallowed. “Saved you a trip,” he said hoarsely. And they both moved to each other at the same time, arms reaching out so they could slot together as Walt bent down and crushed their lips together, the tension and desperation he’d been feeling all day finally breaking and rushing out against Jesse’s mouth.

 

Jesse moaned and reached up cupping the back of Walt’s head and pulling it down as he forced Walt to kiss him _harder_ , as he arched his body up towards him.

 

Jesse needed just as much proof as Walt that they were _there_ , that they got out, and he ran his hands up and down his back, pushing them together, fingers scrambling against Walt’s jacket.

 

Keeping Jesse pressed against his chest and not taking his lips off Jesse’s for a second, Walt blindly reached out for the front door. And crowding Jesse and walking forward he backed them both into the house and flung the door shut behind him.

 

Walt felt himself being pressed up against it as Jesse continued the attack he seemed to be taking on Walt’s lips. Walt was gasping for breath as Jesse forcefully kissed him again and again, as though he were trying to brand Mr. White, push all other thoughts out of Walt’s head except for what his lips felt like when pushed fiercely against Walt’s, opening them desperately. It was working.

 

Snaking his arm around Jesse, Walt pulled him in and flipped them so that he was slamming Jesse into the door. He was aching for Jesse in every nerve and he bent down to his lips again. Oh god he couldn’t stop kissing him, but Jesse didn’t seem like he’d let him stop anyways, the way he kept rolling his tongue into Walt’s drawing him in deeper, sliding his hands into Walt’s jacket to feel him, hooking an ankle around the back of Walt’s leg and tugging Walt closer…

 

Walt took his hands down from where they’d been buried in Jesse’s hair while he kissed him, so he could let Jesse push his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms, where it fell in a heap on the floor as they wrapped their arms around each other, needing to feel more of each other’s warmth.

 

Finally Walt pulled back, shuddering from how every cell seemed to be screaming for more of Jesse, wanting to prove he really was there and not a figment of Walt’s imagination, wanting to own him, possess him, break him open and see what was inside for him to take.

 

He gasped and dropped his forehead to Jesse’s where he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Jesse was shaking as he held Mr. White close. Their hearts were hammering frantically where they were pressed together.

 

Walt gripped Jesse’s sides and rubbed his forehead against Jesse’s once, kissing his lips, tipping his head forward to kiss his neck, kissing his collarbone where Jesse’s shirt had been pushed down, kissing the cotton directly over Jesse’s heart…

 

Walt dropped to his knees and wrapped his shaking arms around Jesse’s waist, resting his head against Jesse’s stomach.

 

Jesse let out a shattered breath as he reached down to stroke Mr. White’s head where it lay against his stomach that was rising and falling with every one of his gasps for air. Jesse fought to control his breathing, rubbing soothing circles into Walt’s scalp, anchoring himself as slowly they began to come back down to earth.

 

They stayed like that for a few quiet moments in the empty, dark house, Jesse leaning up against the door, Walt on his knees before him holding on tight, just breathing, feeling each other, confirming the other was there and it wasn’t a hallucination brought on from inhaling too much smoke.

 

Walt gradually came back to himself and the feeling of Jesse standing in front of him, the soft material of his shirt brushing gently against Walt’s lips, the very tops of his jeans digging into Walt’s chin.

 

Walt spread his fingers where they were pressed against Jesse’s lower back, pulling him forward towards him.

 

And slowly, bit by bit, Walt ducked his head, fabric dragging along the side of his face. And very decisively he leaned in and pressed his lips firmly to the fabric in the center of Jesse’s jeans.

 

Jesse’s breath hitched and he involuntarily tilted his hips up, towards Walt.

 

It was all the invitation Walt needed. He dropped a hand from where it was on Jesse’s back and wrapped it around Jesse’s leg, running his hand lightly along the inside of Jesse’s thigh, over the fabric.

 

Walt put his lips over the denim of Jesse’s jeans again, harder this time, dragging his face upwards so that Jesse could feel the pressure move up from his inseam to his hipbones.

 

Jesse gasped and splayed his fingers across the back of Mr. White’s head. His hips were quivering from the ache to buck forwards and into Mr. White’s face, which Walt was now rubbing against Jesse’s crotch. Jesse was suddenly desperately hard in his jeans.

 

Walt felt Jesse swell through the fabric and he moaned, opening his mouth and pushing his face in deeper, mouthing at the outline of Jesse’s cock where it strained against his jeans.

 

Jesse’s knees almost buckled. He reached down with his other hand, and fingers spread over Mr. White’s head, he pressed Mr. White’s face harder against him.

 

Walt panted against the denim, practically _shoving_ his face further in, dropping his hands to cup the back of Jesse’s jeans and squeeze, bringing Jesse into him. He opened his mouth wider to mouth at the shape of Jesse, sucking him, rubbing his face against him, running his lips up and down where Jesse was straining against him, all this of through the front of Jesse’s pants, which were starting to become slightly damp.

 

Walt’s hands were running up and down Jesse’s legs as he continued to practically suck Jesse off over his jeans. Jesse’s head was spinning from the sensation, the friction, the frustration of it needing to be more but also somehow being too much. And with a supreme effort of will he pulled Mr. White’s face away from where he was aching to have it again. And lifting Mr. White up so that he was back standing over him, Jesse leaned up to kiss the lips that were rubbed raw.

 

“Upstairs,” he mumbled. And he tugged Walt towards the main staircase.

 

They barely made it up, stopping every few steps to push each other against the railing, kissing each other feverishly. This wasn’t the same desperation from earlier that came from them just needing to feel and prove that the other was _there_ , was alive, and they were together. When Walt and Jesse pushed their lips together, Walt cupping Jesse’s jaw, Jesse opening his mouth for Walt…this was just need, pure and simple.

 

They got into Jesse’s room, not bothering to turn on the lights. Walt could still make out the room though. On one side there was a neatly kept desk, organized with all of Jesse’s school materials. But the other side had clothes in a messy heap that Jesse hadn’t bothered to put away, and dog-eared posters on the wall that Walt guessed Jesse had had for years. He couldn’t help smiling, pierced by a sudden pang of affection.

 

He looked back to where Jesse was standing in the middle of the room, in front of his bed. It was dark but Jesse was lit up faintly by the moon coming in from the wide window. He was watching Walt, and although he looked fairly ravished and shell-shocked, he was grinning.

 

“What?” he laughed quietly.

 

Walt looked at him softly. And he walked towards Jesse whose teasing expression dropped and replaced by something more like hunger.

 

When he got to Jesse, Walt reached up to cup the side of Jesse’s face. Jesse’s lips parted.

 

Walt leaned down so he could kiss them. Their lips had barely grazed when he murmured, “You know I do love you,” into Jesse’s mouth, because he had to make sure that Jesse knew, that he never would have said it as a line the other day, that he meant every word of it whether Jesse wanted to believe him or not. And then he sealed their lips together completely.

 

Jesse moaned and pressed Walt’s hand against his face. His tongue ran along the seam of Mr. White’s mouth and Walt opened it for him, running a hand through Jesse’s hair.

 

Jesse broke off gasping, “Oh my god Mr. White shut the hell up of course I know that.” And he kissed Mr. White almost violently as though trying push away any doubt in Walt’s mind.

 

Walt was panting, partly from too many emotions swirling at once, but partly from how incredibly turned on he was by Jesse’s mouth, the way it fit so easily against Walt’s, reading his every next move and matching it.

 

“And how do you know that,” he breathed, yanking Jesse’s head back by his hair and bending down to lick the hollow just under his jaw.

 

Jesse whimpered but he pulled himself together long enough to whisper “Because I’m in love with you,” into Mr. White’s ear. He then bit his earlobe and couldn’t resist adding, “You idiot.” But his mouth when he pressed a kiss to the side of Mr. White’s face was nothing but gentle.

 

Walt’s eyes fluttered shut and he buried his face into Jesse’s neck, holding onto him tightly, reveling at having Jesse in his arms. And when Jesse wrapped his own arms around Mr. White, Walt couldn’t help but think that every look they’d ever exchanged, every petty _or_ serious argument they’d had, every smile or every look of exasperation they’d ever shared was somehow all leading up to _this_ , adding another link between them tugging them closer and closer together until they were standing here in Jesse’s room, swaying from how hard they were holding onto each other, neither wanting to let go.

 

Walt found himself being pulled towards the bed, and Jesse, using Walt’s momentary distraction, tipped him onto the mattress where he clambered on top of Mr. White, eyes glinting in purpose as he bent down to kiss him, rolling their hips together.

 

Walt hissed and he grabbed Jesse’s ass with both hands pressing down, shoving his hips up to meet Jesse’s harder, where he rubbed them together slightly.

 

Jesse let out a strangled moan and Walt had to smirk at the way he’d flipped their roles.

 

But he stopped abruptly when Jesse reached into Walt’s pants with no warning, and grabbed his erection through his underwear.

 

Walt bucked up into Jesse’s hips, gasping throwing his head back. Jesse slid up along the length of his body to nibble at Walt’s neck as he continued to rub Walt.

 

Walt was going to come if Jesse kept up this brisk rhythm of rubbing and squeezing him, so with an extreme effort he rolled them over so that he was on top of Jesse, kissing him, covering him, filling all of Jesse’s senses.

 

Jesse felt Mr. White’s hands go to the button on his jeans and he swallowed tightly. He was so hard that it almost hurt when Mr. White dragged down both his jeans and boxers over his erection.

 

But almost instantly there was relief, as Mr. White’s lips slid down the entire length of his cock before pulling back off.

 

Jesse threw his hands down into the mattress, gripping at the sheets, as Mr. White ducked his head again, swirling his tongue around Jesse’s aching erection before closing his mouth over it and sucking hard, drawing back up off Jesse’s cock in another agonizing pull.

 

Jesse was writhing beneath him, trying not to involuntarily kick out, but it was made difficult when Mr. White was now holding Jesse’s cock and running his lips across the tip, parting them to graze it lightly with his teeth, on every slide. It was torturous and Jesse was quivering, making needy sounds that would have been a lot more embarrassing if they weren’t from being on the receiving end of the best blowjob of his life.

 

When Mr. White’s mouth closed around him again, taking him into its wet, cool space, Jesse thought he was going to explode. Jesse felt like he was going to die when Mr. White had done this through Jesse’s jeans earlier, the heat so unbearable that Jesse felt confined, desperate to get out. The soothing balm of Mr. White’s mouth over his bare skin now was almost unbearable in its contrast.

 

“Mr. White,” he gasped, drawing Walt’s head up. He groaned as he watched himself slide out of the tight, wet space of Mr. White’s mouth. “Oh god you need to take your clothes off now.”

 

Walt’s eyes flashed in want as he did just what Jesse asked, letting his clothes fall in a heap on the floor. He was trying not to shake but no one had _ever_ said that to him, at least not like that. People never begged him to undress, he usually just had to pick the right moment himself. But Jesse was taking his own shirt off so eagerly that his head got stuck, and laughing, Walt reached out to help him. And when it finally popped off Jesse’s head sending his hair flying out in every direction, Walt practically launched himself back towards Jesse, pushing him flat on his back with the momentum, their bare chests rubbing together. And hooking his hands behind Jesse’s head he kissed him desperately, almost sweetly considering the way he was grinding their now naked hips together.

 

“Mr. White can you, can you please…” Jesse’s voice trailed off.

 

“Tell me, Jesse,” and Jesse almost moaned at the way Mr. White said his name like he was tasting each letter every time he said it.

 

Jesse spread his legs underneath Walt, making more space for him as he arched upwards, running his hands along the length of Walt’s back.

 

“I need you, I need to feel you so much,” he panted, rubbing his cock against Walt’s stomach.

 

Walt had to close his eyes at the desperation in Jesse’s voice. “Okay,” he breathed.

 

Jesse reached into his nightstand where he came up with a bottle of lube with a push top. It seemed full and Walt couldn’t help feeling slightly irrationally pleased.

 

“Did you want to use a…I mean I’m safe I promise but we still can if you want to,” said Jesse biting his lip.

 

Walt leaned forward and took the lube from him, silencing him with a kiss. “I trust you,” he said as he squeezed lube onto his fingers. And gently pushing Jesse back against the mattress he reached down and circled him with one slick finger, over and over in spine-tingling circles until Jesse was actually pushing against him to take it in.

 

Walt waited for him to adjust, but he was so overcome by how tight Jesse was around him already. He crooked his finger and very slowly began to massage it inside of Jesse in a way that had Jesse fighting for breath.

 

“Come on,” he almost whined, and Walt snorted. He squeezed more lube into his hand and slipped another finger into Jesse, jacking him in smooth even strokes at the same time.

 

Jesse was thrusting up into Walt’s palm breathlessly. “I swear to god, Mr. White if you don’t…” and broke off with a groan that went straight to Walt’s groin.

 

Walt worked his fingers free and went to grab Jesse by the hips, pulling him in so that Jesse could wrap his legs around him. He reached down to coat himself with lube and positioned himself over Jesse.

 

“You…you ready?” he asked, suddenly nervous. Jesse just rolled his eyes and pulled his head down so he could kiss Mr. White.

 

Walt smiled against his lips and reached down to line himself up. And as he slipped his tongue into Jesse’s mouth, he began to push into him, torturously slow.

 

Jesse squeezed his eyes shut at the sensation, the feeling of stretching around Mr. White, opening for Mr. White, having Mr. White take him. It hurt a little bit, but not as much as the idea of having wait any longer for this.

 

And hooking his legs around Mr. White’s back he pulled him down so that Walt was sliding all the way into him, with a choked noise.

 

Jesse was so full, almost achingly so but he needed it so much, this feeling of Mr. White inside him, with him with nothing else between them but the breath they shared.

 

They held the position, Walt’s muscles quivering, straining against the need to move, Jesse adjusting to him, filled to the brim.

 

Braced on his elbow, Walt reached down where he rubbed Jesse’s chest, sliding his hand down to his hip, gently brushing Jesse’s erection that had temporarily flagged from the strain. Walt ran a hand along Jesse’s leg, sliding it down to where it was wrapped around him. And tentatively he leaned down and captured Jesse’s lips in another soft kiss and slowly rolled his hips forward.

 

Jesse clenched around him at the feeling. He let himself sink back into the bed, pulling Mr. White with him so that Walt was moving on top of him in slow, pulsing rolls. Jesse felt himself getting hard again, especially when Mr. White pulled out almost all the way, before thrusting back in in a way that had Jesse seeing stars, all of it being too _much_.

 

Walt was –

 

Walt thought he was going to die.

 

The way Jesse’s arms slid over his back every time he leaned in to thrust back into him, the way his nails would dig into his shoulder blades one minute and then rub soothing circles into his skin the next. The way Jesse would throw his head back and hiss whenever Walt brushed inside him where he was the most sensitive. It was so much, it was more than he ever thought he’d have, he couldn’t believe he was here, Jesse under him, arms wrapped around him, digging his heels into Walt’s back, demanding for more, more of Mr. White.

 

A sheen of sweat had broken out on Jesse’s forehead and Walt bent down to rub it with his own, lips ghosting over Jesse’s face.

 

Jesse looked up at Walt smiling and suddenly, unexpectedly burst out laughing.

 

“Your glasses are still on,” he said, giggling between breaths. “Oh my god I can’t believe you.”

 

Walt huffed out a laugh in realization. And then Jesse’s hands were coming up to slip them off Walt’s face, which he then kissed, first eyebrows, then eyelids, cheekbones, running his mouth along Walt’s jaw before gently catching Walt’s lips between his and kissing him, softly at first, and then more deeply as he wound his arms around Walt’s neck, drawing him in closer.

 

Walt gasped and he had to pull back and swallow tightly, blinking against a wetness that had appeared in his eyes without him noticing.

 

Jesse saw though and looked absolutely _wrecked_ as he brought Walt’s lips back to his, murmuring, “ _Mr. White_ ,” kissing him deeper.

 

Walt moaned as he slipped his arms under Jesse’s back, pulling them closer together so that their chests were rubbing together, Jesse’s cock trapped between their stomachs where Walt could feel it throbbing as it was rubbed between their skin. He began to buck faster, moving inside Jesse quicker, his hips pumping as he continued to kiss Jesse.

 

Jesse’s hands were now scrabbling over Walt’s back frantically, needing to feel his skin, needing to feel the roll of Mr. White’s body as he thrust into him again and again and again, filling Jesse’s vision, blotting out the rest of the world. At one point Walt bit down on Jesse’s lip, and the sudden sting was delicious.

 

Jesse kissed him and kept rubbing their faces together, damp from what could have been sweat, blood, or even tears but it didn’t matter since every part of him was Mr. White’s down to the last molecule, everything he was belong to Mr. White, Mr. White, _Mr. White_ –

 

With a shout Jesse came between them, hips jerking violently up into where he was pressed against Mr. White’s stomach.

 

Walt let out a strangled moan and reached down to grab Jesse and squeeze, the pressure of his hand too much, almost hurting Jesse but it was just right and exactly what Jesse needed as he continued to quiver and buck slightly through the aftershocks.

 

Walt kissed him desperately and he felt Jesse’s hands go to his ass where he pulled Mr. White into him harder, faster and faster until Walt let out a muffled groan against Jesse’s mouth, spilling inside of him.

 

Jesse’s hips jerked at the sensation and he kissed Mr. White, hard at first and then more easily as he slowly worked their lips together, easing him back down.

 

They lay like that, arms wrapped around each other, kissing intently, and Jesse lifted his hips so that Walt could slip out of him.

 

Walt broke off the kiss and gently brought his head down to Jesse’s chest where he rested it, shaking slightly as Jesse kissed his head and rubbed his arms and back in a calm, soothing manner that was betrayed by the way Walt could hear how rapidly Jesse’s heart was beating inside of his chest.

 

They stayed there breathing heavily, chests rising and falling together, Walt lying shattered against Jesse unable to process anything besides the feeling of Jesse’s skin under him, all around him, his softness taking over the rest of Walt’s senses.

 

He leaned up and gazed at Jesse who looked just as wrecked as he did as he ran a hand against Walt’s face and bent down to kiss him, kiss everything else away except for the way their bodies felt when they were pressed together.

 

Eventually Jesse leaned down so that he and Walt were now lying on the bed, facing each other. They stared at each other, not saying anything but eyes saying more than enough.

 

And slowly, for the second time that day, Walt reached out to deliberately brush his fingers against Jesse’s face, but this time instead of his fingers brushing away ash it was just smooth skin.

 

Jesse’s breath hitched as he looked at Mr. White, remembering. And just the way he’d done in the classroom he reached out and gently placed his hand over Walt’s heart.

 

Slowly they leaned into each other like that, no one moving, no one telling anyone to run. They pressed their lips together in another kiss, and settled into each other, eyes falling shut.

 

Sometime later they did eventually fall asleep, still leaning towards each other.

 

They lay there gently breathing each other’s air, still folded together.

 

They had no way of knowing it.

 

But when the firemen had broken into Jesse’s classroom and pulled the burning chunk of ceiling off of them, they’d found them lying there on the floor of the class, positioned in the same way they were sleeping now.

 

Walt’s fingers resting lightly on the side of Jesse’s face, Jesse still with his hand covering on Mr. White’s chest, curved together, arms holding each other, everything around them nothing but the background.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	14. Chapter 14

Walt woke up for the second time in as many days to an unfamiliar room with someone’s hands on him. But whereas the last time he’d been in a hospital room with Skyler looking like she’d been trying not to cry, this time he was in Jesse Pinkman’s bedroom, with Jesse himself gazing up at him softly, contentment radiating from every pore.

 

Walt blinked his eyes open all the way and smiled when he realized how completely nestled into him Jesse was. He couldn’t believe it. Waking up next to Jesse Pinkman who had his arms slung around Walt and was lazily running a hand up and down his side.

 

When he was at his angriest Walt used to ask himself ‘what have I done to deserve this’ about his life. The words would come from a place of rage and entitlement and he’d spit them out bitterly.

 

Now, lying here as a soft breeze played over them from the open window, and having Jesse lean closer into him and drowsily kiss his chest, Walt once again found himself asking ‘what have I done to deserve this’.

 

This time the words tasted nicer.

 

He leaned down to rub his chin on the top of Jesse’s head.

 

“Morning,” he mumbled, voice slightly raspy from having just woken up.

 

Jesse’s eyes were still slightly sleepy, but his smile when he looked up at Walt was more than bright.

 

“Morning yourself,” he said. He started shaking and Walt was about to ask what was wrong and then he realized Jesse was silently laughing.

 

“What?” he asked, with a questioning grin.

 

“Nothing,” Jesse said, taking a breath. But then he started quivering again in Walt’s arms saying, “Oh god I’m so sorry it’s just…” his lips were twitching. “It’s just. Oh my god that was _so_ hot!” he finally burst out laughing, leaning his forehead against Walt’s shoulder, shaking with laughter.

 

Walt pretended to look at him incredulously but he was grinning. “Oh I’m sorry, are you surprised by that?”

 

Jesse looked up at Walt again. He was trying not laugh but he couldn’t help it. “Um…am I surprised…hmmm…” his eyes were glinting with mischief. “Mark me down as _yes_ ” and started up again, howling with laughter.

 

Walt snorted. “Never underestimate experience, you punk,” he said while smacking him across the head, but quickly kissing where he’d rearranged Jesse’s already very messed up hair.

 

“Okay okay fine, you’re a sexy guy, jeez, I’m giving you a compliment here,” Jesse rolled his eyes, but did so with a wide smile.

 

“Oh is that what that was,” muttered Walt. Jesse just ignored him and reached over into his nightstand where he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He was just shaking one out when he suddenly twisted his neck back at Walt, his laughter from earlier fading abruptly.

 

“Oh Jesus, Mr. White I’m – I’m such an idiot I’m so sorry,” he said looking horrified at himself.

 

“No it’s okay, I don’t mind,” Walt said quickly.

 

“Screw that,” said Jesse, already popping the one he was taking back into the pack. “I almost never do it anymore, especially since I’m around kids so much but like…sometimes cutting out _everything_ all at once feels a little…I don’t know…overwhelming,” he shrugged, which Walt could understand completely.

 

“So yeah, hardly ever anymore,” Jesse said. He looked over at Walt, winking. “Just a reflex from, oh I don’t know, having just had my brains fucked out by some fifty-year-old chemistry nerd who’s secretly the hottest thing ever, Jesus _Christ_ , man,” he said, laughing softly again, shaking his head, and reaching to toss the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand.

 

Walt was in the middle of enjoying a pleasant, self-interested heat in his gut at the words ‘hottest thing ever’ but it dissipated when he saw the trail of bruises running down Jesse’s back.

 

“Oh Jesus, did I do that?” he asked, alarmed.

 

“Hmmm?” Jesse glanced back to where Walt was looking. “Oh, no those are from the fire, I think it was the bookshelf.”

 

Walt felt cold momentarily. He’d been so thoroughly immersed in the glow of having morning-Jesse in his arms that he’d almost forgotten that not even twenty-four hours ago they’d both almost died.

 

He swallowed and reached out to trail his fingers along the line of bruises. “I don’t know, it – it still kind of feels like I did this to you.”

 

Jesse’s forehead creased. “How do you mean?”

 

Oh god that was _right_. If the police didn’t know that the wreckage they were examining was caused by an explosion in a meth lab built underneath an elementary school…then how could Jesse, unless Walt had told him last night? And last night, well, was last night. There were other priorities.

 

It spoke for Walt’s development and the way he’d come to respect Jesse over the semester that he didn’t even consider lying to him for a second, when he could have just brushed it off with a: “oh you know, because I dropped the bookcase on you, that’s all.”

 

Instead he just took a breath and told Jesse everything he’d realized about Gus’ lab, and about how it had started the fire. Not that he really had much to tell. He’d only figured out that Jesse’s school had been built on top about five seconds before he was running into it.

 

When Walt had told Jesse about his hobby the other week, Jesse had been devastated and unable to look at Walt. Now he just listened to him calmly, looking considering.

 

When Walt reached the end of his realizations - which really didn’t take that long -  he braced himself to look back at Jesse, who’d been leaning up in bed while he was listening.

 

He was met with Jesse lips as they closed in over his, kissing him roughly.

 

When Jesse pulled back Walt looked at him nonplussed.

 

“So…you’re not mad?” he said a bit bewildered, lips wet from Jesse’s.

 

“At you?” Jesse raised an eyebrow at him. “Look I’d…I’d already decided I was okay with the whole ‘chemistry advice’ thing. I mean…it’s not exactly like _I’ve_ made choices that have been much better,” he shrugged. “And besides, you started before I knew you, it’s not like it was my business. But still, I’m okay with it because…well you did want to get out,” he said, giving Walt a soft look. He then snorted. “Oh yeah and the part where I let you take me to bed and put your dick in me was me being okay with it by the way, in case you missed it.”

 

Walt let out a choked laugh but he was still doubtful. “So wait I’m just...I’m having trouble with…I just don’t feel blameless here is all, Jesse.”

 

“Uh, you’re not the one who thought it was okay to cook drugs beneath where there are kids everywhere I mean…what the hell,” said Jesse forcefully, but it wasn’t directed at Walt. He absently reached for the cigarettes again and placed one between his teeth. He didn’t light it though, just chewed it angrily in thought.

 

“So you’re…alright with it? With…me?” asked Walt.

 

Jesse looked at him, genuinely shocked, cigarette dangling. “Mr. White you – you saved my _life_ ,” he said. “And not just mine, Brock’s too, I mean, we’d both be dead in there if you hadn’t come in guns blazing,” he snorted again, but he was shaking his head in disbelief.

 

“Yeah well,” said Walt shrugging. “Just so you know that’s now officially my least favourite student of yours.”

 

“Uh huh,” said Jesse easily. He then looked at Mr. White seriously. “But you know…if you hadn’t taken him out first, if you, if you’d taken me out first and left him there we wouldn’t be here right now. I- I couldn’t”

 

Walt looked right back at Jesse. “He means _nothing_ to me. You think I care more about one child than I do about you? If I’d come back and it was…and it was too late I’d never have forgiven myself. You’re everything to me Jesse, he’s nothing.”

 

Jesse looked at him piercingly, a little surprised by the force in Mr. White’s words. But then smiled a bit wryly. “Well. I might not buy that entirely since you still got him out. And you weren’t too late.” Jesse shrugged. “Doing the right thing pays off sometimes.”

 

Walt snaked a hand under the covers where he couldn’t resist dragging a hand up the inside of Jesse’s thigh because the mood had become entirely too serious all of a sudden. “You’re telling me,” he raised an eyebrow at Jesse who had hissed in a breath. “I still think you should look into expelling him as soon as possible though,” he muttered, massaging Jesse’s thigh.

 

“Seriously though,” said Jesse who was flushing a bit from Walt’s hand which was getting higher and higher. But his eyes were looking at him earnestly. “You came back for me, Mr. White, you…I just. Thank you,” he said rushed, and Walt almost felt his heart break from how surprised Jesse seemed that someone would do that. But then Jesse was launching himself at Mr. White and kissing him feverishly, while climbing into his lap.

 

Walt responded immediately, running his hands up Jesse’s back, shifting to make room for Jesse who was now straddling him. He was just feeling himself starting to stir under the covers when the open window blew in a breeze that was much cooler than it had been earlier.

 

“Oh god you have to close that,” said Jesse shuddering.

 

“ _Me_?” said Walt. “It’s your window and uh, I’m a little trapped here,” he said, squeezing Jesse’s thighs which were braced on either side of his waist.

 

Jesse rolled immediately off of him, and crossed his arms, looking at him innocently. “Look, you’re free. You can close it now.”

 

Walt just shook his head. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, but he was getting up.

 

“Darn right,” said Jesse, folding his arms behind his back, watching Mr. White walk naked across the floor of his room. “Bitch.”

 

Walt looked at him over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow to let Jesse know exactly what he thought about that, and how very much Walt would be making him rethink those words later. But for now he just reached up to slide the window closed, where there was a definite snap to the air. Jesse just smirked, watching the movement of Mr. White’s muscles when he stretched. He was pretty well built for an older guy, not exactly hard but definitely…firm. And the fact that Jesse knew exactly what Mr. White’s skin felt like when he was being pinned under him, Mr. White moving above him, trapping him on the bed, taking him apart bit by bit…

 

Yeah Mr. White could be walking back to the bed a lot faster.

 

Mr. White slid in next to him and Jesse immediately shifted over to be pressed against his side. He looped his arms around Mr. White and trailed a series of kisses down his neck.

 

Walt shivered, not _just_ from Jesse’s ministrations. “You’re right, it’s cold. I forgot it’s almost winter.”

 

“Ugh,” mumbled Jesse who was now kissing the spot where Walt’s neck and shoulder met.

 

“Not a fan of winter?” asked Walt, lightly running his fingers down where Jesse’s arm was sprawled against his chest. He felt Jesse shrug.

 

“I’ve always been more of a fall guy.”

 

Walt was just about to lean in to kiss Jesse when something made him stop.

 

He leaned back, staring at Jesse, heart suddenly picking up speed. “Say that again.”

 

“Say what again? Um, Mr. White, why are you looking at me like that?” asked Jesse, lifting his mouth from where it had been busy working a kiss into Walt’s shoulder.

 

“What you just said, say it again exactly the way you said it,” said Walt urgently. Oh god he hoped he was wrong.

 

Jesse looked at Mr. White like he was crazy. “I’ve always been more of a fall guy?”

 

Walt’s mouth fell open.

 

“That son of a _bitch_.”

 

 

***

 

Walt and Jesse were sitting at Jesse’s dining room table, Jesse in a t-shirt and a pair of boxers he’d just thrown on, and Walt in a robe of Jesse’s he’d borrowed. It was one that swamped Jesse whenever he wore it, so it looked fairly normal on Walt. There were two mugs of instant coffee in front of them that Jesse had quickly boiled when they’d gone downstairs.

 

The only thing that didn’t look relaxed about them were their expressions.

 

“So you’re saying that Gus hired me on purpose,” Jesse said, staring at the table.

 

Walt had just flashed back to when he’d overheard Jane talking in the staffroom way back at the beginning of the semester, before he’d even spoken to Jesse yet:

 

_“Gus really fought for him apparently.”_

Gus was too far seeing to have not thought of an out. What if someone caught on to their lab in the school? Hadn’t fallen for the way it was disguised as a boiler room? Realized someone inside the school must be culpable?

 

It was unlikely Gus would give up Gale. What if he needed him again somewhere down the line to start up production again? Walt himself was never a sure option for Gus, just a bonus. Gale was loyal and Gus could count on using him.

 

And besides, pinning the blame on two teachers from the high school side wouldn’t have _as_ much believability, and not if they’d been there for a while. No he’d need someone new, and being on the board of a university allowed him the perfect opportunity to pick from any new teachers. He could handpick someone who – unlike Gale or Walt for that matter – would be actually _there_ in the elementary school every day.

 

Someone who was less established in the school.

 

Someone who preferably already had a history of drug use.

 

Someone who’d be a perfect ‘fall guy’ if it ever came to that.

 

Someone like Jesse.

 

Walt looked at Jesse desperately who had his chin in one hand, coffee mug in the other, his eyes dead. God Walt _hated_ that look, it was so entirely wrong on him.

 

“I’m saying…I _think_ that’s why Gus _might_ have gone out on a limb for you,” Walt broke off, despising the words he was saying, despising Gus, despising anything that put that look in Jesse’s normally vibrant eyes. “Jesse I’m _not_ saying that’s why the school actually _kept_ you, that’s not it at all. But…it might have been how Gus got you in.” He tried to say it as gently as possible, biting down the wave of bitterness he suddenly felt towards Gus, who although was dead, Walt still hated more than anyone alive.

 

“Great,” nodded Jesse curtly. “Yeah that’s just great. I thought they wanted me for _me_ , not because they _might_ need someone to throw under a bus if someone caught on to them.” Jesse suddenly looked up, his eyes far off. “When he got me into the school, even though I didn’t have my last evaluation yet, he said…he said he ‘saw something’ in me.” He huffed out a joyless laugh. “And I fell for it. Because apparently being an idiot is just what I do,” he muttered.

 

“Jesse you’re…” Walt swallowed. “It doesn’t make you an idiot to want to believe people are good.” Oh god how could he explain to Jesse that that was the absolute best part of him?

 

“Maybe not,” Jesse shrugged. “But I should still have known better. I mean it’s not enough that I got _out_ from where I was? Went back to school? Actually tried to _do_ something other than, I don’t know, the drug of the day?” Walt’s chest ached.

 

“Jesse – “ he started to say.

 

“No no, it’s okay, Mr. White, you don’t have to say anything I’m used to it at this point. Doesn’t matter what I do, what I try to fix,” Jesse clenched his hand. “I can try and be better, talk to my parents, clean myself up, but at the end of the day it doesn’t matter how far I get because it’ll always come back to that, won’t it. I’ll always be just some pathetic JUNKIE,” he shouted the last word, hurling his mug at the wall where it shattered.

 

There was silence in the room while Jesse breathed heavily, staring at the coffee that was running down the wall. Walt just waited quietly.

 

When he thought that it was okay, that Jesse wouldn’t throw him off, he reached across the dining room table. He placed his hand tentatively over Jesse’s. Jesse’s flinched but he didn’t move it, so Walt just went right in and covered it entirely.

 

He wasn’t sure what he’d say. He thought of what he _could_ say, as he gently rubbed the back of Jesse’s hand with his thumb.

 

All of a sudden without meaning to he chuckled. “Can you imagine how much Gus must have regretted it though.”

 

Jesse turned to him, looking somewhat resentful of Walt’s reaction, but Walt just squeezed his hand again, smiling in a very satisfied manner. “No really, think about it. God he must have _hated_ watching you teach,” and he laughed softly again.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean,” mumbled Jesse.

 

“Because he probably knew that if he wanted to pin anything on you he’d have absolutely zero credibility,” Walt smirked. “Think about it, Jesse, he was probably expecting you to turn out to be a slacker who wouldn’t amount to anything.” Walt squeezed his hand as if to apologize for how he himself had once been under the same delusion. “If he’d wanted to blame someone for cooking drugs beneath the school, well then people might have bought it if you’d _actually_ been incompetent.”

 

Jesse bit his lip, looking down. Walt leaned towards him and lowered his voice urgently.

 

“And even if he’d so much as tried, there’s not _one_ single person in the entire school who wouldn’t have vouched for you. No one would have believed it for a _second_ , Jesse. Absolutely anyone could see how good you are. You – you have this irritating habit of proving everyone around you wrong. I was wrong at first. _Gus_ was unbelievably wrong about you, and if he’d tried to so much as do anything to you I’d have burned him down myself.” Saying the words, Walt knew it was true, and he involuntarily clenched the hand that was holding Jesse’s.

 

Jesse flexed his fingers so that he could finally hold Walt’s hand properly, not just let it lie there. He looked upset but at least he didn’t look dead inside.

 

“But Jesse just…just _stop_ worrying about what other people think about you. What do they even matter? I know people have misjudged you your whole life but…but you don’t _need_ their opinions. If people can’t see how amazing you are then it’s their loss. What’s important is that _you_ know you are,” Walt took a breath and continued more quietly. “And if you don’t know that then I’m just going to have to spend every day showing you, aren’t I?”

 

Jesse looked up at Walt thoughtfully. And with a slight smile he echoed what Mr. White had once told him: “You know you’re not ever getting rid of me, don’t you?”

 

And taking his cue, Walt just smiled and placed his other hand over Jesse’s.

 

“Promise?”

 

They sat like that in silence for a few moments, two people who’d always been a little broken almost feeling the jagged edges of their lives smooth out.

 

Until Jesse frowned slightly. “But Mr. White, what about you?”

 

“Me?”

 

“Yeah I mean…what if they did try and blame you too? I mean you said you guys always spoke on the computer, what if they have records?” Jesse sounded worried, like Mr. White was going to be snatched away right in front of him.

 

“But Jesse, Gus is gone and the school’s not under investigation, I just…why would anyone suspect anything?” Walt was trying to deny what Jesse was telling him, but mostly because he couldn’t think about the alternative, if he’d only gotten this far with Jesse to have himself be pulled back.

 

“I know but – but they’re still going to have to take care of all of Gus and Gale’s stuff, and like…what if they find anything on Gale’s computer? Even Gus’? Like I don’t know, man, but I just…I want to be careful,” Jesse gripped Walt’s hand a little tighter.

 

“I know. But I mean, they’re bound to have flunkies cleaning up after them. They probably even have their laptops by now, it’s just…how are we supposed to steal those?” Walt laughed humorlessly. “ And forget about stealing them, I don’t know where they stored any of it, how to find it on a computer, or wipe it for that matter.”

 

Jesse sat up straight, a line between his eyebrows. “But what if I knew someone who did?”

 

Walt looked at him doubtfully. “Look, Mister ‘I can pick house locks and have a dubiously criminal past’ I’m sure you have connections that would surprise me but I highly doubt it’s with the kind of people who know this particular brand of illegal activity.”

 

Jesse huffed out a laugh. “You’d be surprised,” was all he said, while he walked over to the phone on the wall. He dialed and waited. “Yo man, it’s me Jesse. I know right, wassup, brother?” He winked at Mr. White who had started at this voice from Jesse that he hadn’t heard for a while. “Yeah no things are chill, totally. But me and a friend…yeah I think we’re gonna be needing some of your skills.” Jesse winced. “Uh no, not those skills. Definitely not. Naw man, I mean some of that ‘expertise.’ Yeah that’s right. Um yeah, sorry but sooner the better, yo.” Jesse rolled his eyes. “Like you actually do anything in the mornings anyways. Nah man, thanks a lot, I appreciate it.

Oh hey wait a sec,” he said, turning back to Walt, looking a bit more concerned. “Better call that lawyer of yours, too.”

 

***

 

Walt and Jesse were back at the dining room table an hour later, but this time they weren’t alone.

 

While Jesse had cleaned up Walt had gone upstairs to use Jesse’s shower. Under the hot spray, borrowing Jesse’s aftershave, covering himself with it, the scent of Jesse all over and around him…Walt seriously had to resist the urge to jack off in the shower.

 

But now, dressed in the clothes he’d worn yesterday, Walt couldn’t help thinking that if he had just gone for it he might be feeling a lot less frustrated now at the sight of the two people who were sitting in front of them.

 

Jesse’s friend didn’t exactly inspire confidence. For one thing he was dressed like Jesse used to when he was in Walt’s class, the key difference being that now he had to be in his twenties as well. Walking in the hallways at school Walt always thought that pants sagging practically to your knees couldn’t possibly look stupider. Apparently it could though, when it was on an adult. And the guy’s expression also didn’t bring the word “hacker” to mind. Not that Walt knew any but he’d have at least guessed they didn’t usually look so…dopey.

 

He didn’t feel too much better about the looks of the other one, who was apparently the lawyer. True, this one was wearing a suit. At least that’s what Walt thought it was. He just wasn’t aware they made them in that colour.

 

He leaned over to Jesse. “You’re telling me our futures depend on these two?” he muttered. “It’s been nice knowing you.”

 

Jesse silenced him with a frown. He looked back at the guests. “Alright so thanks for coming. You know why we’re here?” The dynamic duo nodded at him.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your names?” asked Walt a little suspiciously.

 

“Saul Goodman at your service,” said the lawyer. Oh shoot look at that, it was that guy. While Walt tried to reconcile the man across from him with the clown that sometimes appeared on his TV screen, Saul gave him a grin that Walt supposed was meant to put him at ease but was mostly just horrifying in its intensity.

 

“And I’m Badger, yo,” said the other one.

 

Walt stared at him for a long time. He finally repeated, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” and Jesse kicked him under the table.

 

“This is Brandon but he goes by Badger because it’s his online alias,” Jesse said.

 

“ _Badger_?” Walt asked in disbelief, feeling less and less confident about this plan by the second.

 

“Yeah man!” he said, nodding vigorously, hair flopping everywhere from under the beanie he wore. “They call me that ‘cause I can get into all the little spaces online, squeeze right in there. It’s called ‘burrowing.’ It’s like…digging.”

 

Walt turned to Jesse, every line in his face asking _what_? “So…” he said out loud. “This is one of your friends from the old days?”

 

Jesse shushed him and Walt had bite his lip to keep from adding, ‘I can see why you took drugs.’

 

“So you got some shit that needs to be erased right?” Walt took a moment to realize the creature in the beanie was talking to him.

 

“Oh uh, yeah. Instant messages on a laptop,” Walt said. “We sometimes texted but I cut the card in my phone.” He had at Jesse’s urging, once Jesse was sure that somehow the year-long string of messages that Walt and Gale had exchanged could possibly come out.

 

‘Badger’ nodded. “Solid. Were the messages coded?”

 

“Um. No?” guessed Walt.

 

“So it was an IRC? You know if the other laptop had a firewall?”

 

Walt raised his hands helplessly. “I couldn’t tell you.”

 

“Well I could,” said Badger a bit smugly. “If you gave me your laptop.”

 

“Oh right,” said Walt, sliding it across the table to Badger who opened it and immediately started typing faster than anyone Walt had ever seen. Jesse gave him a look like _see_?

 

“Alright, gotcha,” he crowed. He stared at the thread of messages that were filling the screen. “Oh shit bro, this is all on how to cook crystal? You _know_ how much you could sell this for man, I got people I could hook you up with.”

 

“I already had people,” said Walt drily. “They’re the ones who can’t have this stuff anymore.”

 

“Alright alright, so you want all this deleted right?” asked Badger, looking a little forlorn at the prospect.

 

Walt sighed. “Yes please.”

 

Badger hit a few swift keystrokes. “Alright. Done.”

 

Walt’s eyebrows shot upwards. “Excuse me?” Even Jesse looked a little surprised at the anticlimax of what he’d been worrying about.

 

“It’s done dude, no worries,” Badger said easily.

 

“Okay hang on,” said Walt, holding up a hand. “I don’t just mean _delete_ the messages, I mean there can’t be _any_ trace of them anywhere in the computer’s system, at _all_.”

 

“Yeah no duh,” said Badger, like Walt was a moron. “It’s all gone man, they teach that shit in kindergarten.”

 

Walt couldn’t resist shooting a grin at Jesse. “Is that a fact?”

 

Jesse just gave him a long-suffering look and turned back to Badger. “Yeah thanks man. But the guy he was sending it to. And that guy’s boss. They can’t have records either.”

 

“Oh yeah,” laughed Badger. “Hold up. Alright I can get into the other guy’s computer from here. Oh my god they’re all on the same syndication format and are readable from here, what _losers_ ,” he cackled. Walt looked at Jesse who just shrugged.

 

“Okay so this guy’s boss, I’ve got a couple threads open but I don’t know who’s who. He sends the most to some dude called ‘Pollos’ though, you know him?”

 

Walt nodded. “That’s him.”

 

“Alright, just gotta get in there…” muttered Badger, concentrated. “Alright. Done _and_ done. You owe me a beer, yo,” he said to Jesse who laughed.

 

Walt looked at Badger, a little impressed despite himself. “Sorry, how did you learn all this stuff?”

 

Badger shrugged and looked at Walt earnestly. “Just in case I ever went to Starfleet, man.”

 

Walt was just about to ask ‘Kirk or Picard’ when Saul, who’d been twiddling his thumbs until now finally spoke up.

 

“Gentleman I’m sorry to interrupt what I’m sure has been an education for all of us, but it so happens that I’m on the clock. And as much as I’d love to watch cartoons with you all, I’m here in a consulting capacity and do have other clients. So,” he said, turning to Walt. “You’re concerned that your little online cooking experiment might come back to bite you in the ass, is that the case, yes or no?”

 

“Yes,” said Walt slowly.

 

Saul waved a hand carelessly. “Forget it. They got nothing. Nada.”

 

“Look,” said Walt. “I know it’s been deleted now,” he said, gesturing towards Badger. “But I mean, just in case, could someone ever come back later and I don’t know, say I was involved?” He was starting to feel genuinely worried about the idea that he could be in a new life with Jesse, only to have the old one come back and take it all away. “It’s just…it was cooking _meth_.”

 

“Whoa whoa whoa!” said Saul scandalized. “ _I_ did not say meth, none of those emails ever said meth, who the hell is talking about meth? _No one_ ,” he said, fixing Walt with a stare, “is talking about meth. Plausible deniability. Right there.”

 

“So you really think he’s in the clear?” Jesse asked him, biting his lip.

 

“I don’t even know why I’m here to be honest,” snorted Saul. “No one’s going to jail. So what, a guy makes an online friend who’s also a dork” -  Walt made a sound of protest – “and they get to talking shop. Reliving their seventh grade science fair projects. Send a bunch of hypothetical info on how to cook things that may or may not be meth. No one goes to jail over a hypothetical, kid.” Saul said. “Especially not after said hypothetical’s been erased from cyberspace forever thanks to my friend Mr. Mahew over here.”

 

“And how do you two know each other?” asked Walt, feeling calmer, but still curious.

 

“What, hackers don’t need lawyers?” Saul raised an eyebrow. “I had the distinct privilege of defending Badger over here on one occasion, not that I’d share what that instance was, although I’ve since advised him that most people wait until the privacy of their home.”

 

“I wasn’t – “ said Badger hotly but Saul cut through him smoothly.

 

“And after sharing with me the skill-set you’ve just witnessed today, he sometimes helps out around the place, taking care of my more unofficial business, which is why I’m here as a favour today.”

 

“What unofficial business, like, money laundering?” asked Walt dubiously.

 

Saul mimed dragging a zipper across his lips. “World’s moved online, partner. Embrace it. But yes, you’ve asked for my legal opinion and here you have it: chill out. You’ll be fine.”

 

Walt and Jesse exchanged a glance. “You sure?” asked Jesse urgently.

 

Saul spread his hands. “Do I look like I don’t know what I’m talking about? No don’t answer that. But yes, he’s done nothing wrong. And I’m speaking strictly in terms of _legal_ wrongdoing, mind you. As for moral wrongdoing, well, I can’t speak for Jesus. He uses a different lawyer.” Saul laughed but stopped when he saw everyone looking at him incredulously. “Right. Well. Gentlemen, I’ll be on my way and if Mr. Mahew doesn’t want to wait for the bus he should come with me, he’ll be staring at my face either way.”

 

They got up to leave and just as they got to the door of the dining room, Saul turned around.

 

“You know,” he said, mostly directed at Walt, but he was looking between him and Jesse too. “There is an opening now.”

 

“Opening for what?” asked Walt.

 

“You know. Criminal underworld and all that. We’re looking at a prime shortage of product in the streets for the next little while. Swoop in now and you could make a killing, and there’d be absolutely no one to stop you.”

 

Walt was just staring at him in disbelief. “I’m sorry what are you suggesting?”

 

Saul rolled his eyes. “Let me guess, you’re the brains and he’s the cute one,” he said to Jesse. “I’m talking about _opportunities_ , here. Revisit your hobby and the sky’s the limit. I’d even be willing to help out, for a fee of course, and I’m sure we could get some kind of introduction bonus for Mr. Mahew. But think about it,” he said, looking at Walt and Jesse growing visibly excited. “You know the business and he knows the chemistry. What do you say?”

 

Walt and Jesse stared at each other for a long moment.

 

And then burst out into hysterical laughter at the table.

 

“Okay okay fine, I’ll take that as a no,” sighed Saul, while Walt and Jesse continued to crack up. “You’re sure, though?”

 

“Definitely,” choked Walt, wiping his eyes.

 

“Oh god,” gasped Jesse, trying to breathe. “Can you imagine? I think we’d make just about the worst drug dealers – “

 

“- _ever_ ,” finished Walt, which set them off again.

 

“Some people just lack ambition,” said Saul, shaking his head. “Well you have my card, gentlemen, and should you ever change your minds…better caul Saul!” he posed, and then turned on his heel and left with Badger while Walt and Jesse composed themselves.

 

“I don’t know,” said Walt between breaths, pretending to sound thoughtful. “We might not be _so_ bad.”

 

“Don’t even,” laughed Jesse. He took a breath and gazed at Walt. “So what do you think?”

 

“About?”

 

“About _that_ , man,” said Jesse, gesturing at the table where Walt’s laptop was still lying.

 

“Well,” mused Walt. “As much as I hate to admit it, both of those – I don’t know what they were – seemed to know what they were talking about, more or less, so…I’d say there’s no harm in being cautiously optimistic?”

 

“So you’re saying…” Jesse looked at him eagerly, almost scared that it seemed too good to be true.

 

Walt just smiled at him. “It’s over. We won.”

 

Jesse’s breath went out in a whoosh as his held fell to his chest. He shook his head once and looked back up at Mr. White, and Walt was hit by the warmth, love, and most of all the hope in Jesse’s gaze.

 

But then Jesse’s gaze turned slightly heated as he looked Walt up and down, lips quirking in a suggestive smile. “You’ve got no argument from me there.”

 

“For once,” Walt scoffed, and then stared at Jesse.

 

And then they were crashing into each other, lips colliding frantically, hands everywhere, having gone from zero to a hundred in what felt like less than a second.

 

“Oh my god,” moaned Jesse, licking the inside of Walt’s lip and hissing as Walt bit down on his tongue lightly, although his hands were clutching Jesse’s hair in a way that was anything but. “Can we go upstairs like, _now_.”

 

“No,” growled Walt, dragging Jesse closer to him. And in one move he hoisted Jesse up on to the table, kissing him fiercely, and using his weight to push him forward until Jesse was lying flat on his back on the table, breathing heavily, eyes blown wide.

 

Walt clambered on top of him – oh god his knee – and grabbed Jesse’s wrists, pinning them to the table over his head, sweeping his laptop away where it fell with a crash to the dining room floor, breaking into pieces.

 

They both stared at it for a second until Walt shrugged.

 

“Didn’t need it anyways,” he said. And when Jesse looked up at him through his eyelashes he launched downwards, kissing Jesse hard enough to bruise, lifting up Jesse’s thigh until Jesse had one leg wrapped around him, while he bucked upwards into Walt’s groin.

 

Walt panted and slid his lips across Jesse’s, which were desperately trying to get more of his lips, more of their heat, more of their slickness, more of Mr. White’s mouth on him oh god please –

 

Jesse let out a whining noise. His shoulder blades were digging into the table top but he didn’t care, not when Walt was pushing his shirt up and over his head, bending his head to flick Jesse’s nipples with his tongue, sliding his body down along Jesse’s and rolling back up to kiss Jesse again, sucking his lips, working his mouth open entirely. And when he pushed the heel of his palm to the front of Jesse’s jeans, Jesse’s vision whited out.

 

“Oh god, take them off, Mr. White,” he moaned and Walt did as instructed, somehow managing to get his own clothes off right after, kneeled as he was over Jesse, balancing precariously, and looking down at a now-naked Jesse, completely hard, hips straining towards Mr. White. Walt groaned and pressed back down against him, rubbing their hips and holding the back of Jesse’s head to he could crush their lips together.

 

The table shook as Walt thrust down against Jesse over and over, Jesse wrapping his legs around Walt’s waist, fingers digging into Walt’s slick back. He could feel sweat dripping down his own neck, and the top of the table was beginning to feel slippery where he was lying on it. Walt’s hand came up to rub his chest while he continued to grind against Jesse, pressing their cocks together where they brushed on each torturous circling of Walt’s hips.

 

Jesse brought one hand away from where it was clutching Mr. White’s face while they kissed desperately, and reached down to shove it between the slick press of their bodies. When he grabbed both of their cocks and squeezed them together he smirked against Mr. White’s lips when Walt shuddered hips quivering, which sent more friction to where their cocks were now being rubbed together by Jesse.

 

Walt was seeing stars with every stroke, every twist of Jesse’s hand sending shivers down his spine and more blood to his already aching erection that needed to be pressed to Jesse’s so much more, oh god, why wasn’t Jesse squeezing _harder_?

 

Walt broke off their kiss and ran a finger over Jesse’s damp, bottom lip. He slipped it inside Jesse’s mouth and ordered: “suck it.” Jesse eyes went dark and he curled his tongue around Walt’s finger, drawing it in deeper where he hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard, and Walt couldn’t believe he wasn’t coming right there.

 

He pulled it out from Jesse’s mouth and reached down, angling his hips slightly so that he had room to run his hands over the curve of Jesse’s ass, reach between his cheeks, and slowly slide it inside of Jesse.

 

Jesse gasped at the burn but lifted his legs higher, thighs squeezing where they were wrapped around Walt. When Walt crooked his finger inside of him he groaned, momentarily releasing their erections.

 

“And you are stopping why exactly,” panted Walt, thrusting forward, trying feel Jesse’s cock against his again, oh god he needed it so much, needed to be feeling Jesse everywhere all the time.

 

Jesse immediately caught them again, clumsily trying to press them together, sliding his hand up and down, overcome by the slide of skin on skin, by the heat that was pooling in his groin. He adjusted himself on the table so that he’d have more room for Mr. White’s finger, more room for Mr. White to push down onto and inside him, and to grip Jesse’s hair while braced on one arm as he thrust over and over on top of them.

 

The top of the table was getting covered in their combined sweat, as their damp, worked-up bodies continued to slide together, their breathing getting quicker, kisses getting sloppier, motions getting jerkier until all of a sudden Walt was shaking, muscles twitching, finally giving into the burn of the feeling of Jesse open under him, and spilling over Jesse’s hand with a shout.

 

Jesse moaned and continued to jack them together but when he felt Mr. White’s come drip slowly down the length of his cock and get rubbed into the skin as Jesse dragged his hand upwards again, faster from the added slickness, his hips jerked once, twice, and then with a desperate groan, he threw his head back, knocking it into the wood, and came spurting into his fist. He released their cocks so he could reach around to grab Mr. White’s ass desperately, leaving a trail of wetness there from where he’d come in his hand, and he bucked his hips upwards in small, needy bursts, spilling every last bit of himself onto Mr. White’s stomach.

 

They lay there gasping on top of the table, slowly coming back down to earth, breathing heavily, still burning, heat still pulsing through them from the force of the orgasm they’d just shared on top of Jesse’s dining room _table_.

 

Jesse let his hand drop from where it was still squeezing Mr. White’s ass and let it fall to the table where it made a wetter noise than he was expecting. He then realized how very covered the table was with their sweat that was now mingling with semen from both of them.

 

“Oh gross,” he panted, wrinkling his nose. He then shook with laughter. “Oh my god I _eat_ here.”

 

Just then the table gave a creak and the back legs gave out with a snap, sending the still-tangled Walt and Jesse sliding abruptly to the floor, feet first, where they sprawled in an inelegant sweat-soaked heap on the floor.

 

They lay in stunned silence.

 

Until Walt just looked back, pressed up against the angle of the now destroyed table-top, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Not anymore.”

 

Jesse let out a strangled noise of laughter from where he was practically sitting in Walt’s lap after they’d fallen off.

 

“Yeah no shit.” He then looked up at Walt who had his arms around him and was running a hand up and down Jesse’s back, looking at little astounded.

 

“So the next time I say let’s go upstairs…” began Jesse.

 

“…I’ll just ignore you?” asked Walt.

 

Jesse snorted. “Sounds about right.”

 

And then pulling Mr. White’s face towards him he caught his lips in a kiss, and wound his arms around his neck, letting out another huff of laughter at the debris around them.

 

He thought about how unbelievable this guy was. How unbelievably crazy, provoking, thrilling, loving, and inconceivable this he was, and who through some bizarre, karmic twist of fate had ended up here with him, needing Jesse as much as Jesse needed him.

 

Walt pulled back to gaze softly at Jesse as he ran his hand through his hair. Jesse’s heart clenched and he found himself thinking he couldn’t have dreamed up Mr. White if he tried.

 

And when Walt leaned back in to gently capture Jesse’s lips again, Jesse just stopped thinking altogether.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Oh my gosh it's almost done I can't believe it thanks SO much for still being interested and reading and leaving such nice comments! And also thanks for your patience with waiting for this chapter haha, I had a great time with my cousins:)  
> \- Oh by the way I don't know if anyone caught onto the foreshadowing of Jesse's class burning down, but in Act 1 we have: “Don’t burn my class down,” he said warningly" Act 2 has: "And besides,” said Walt, cracking his knuckles. “Apart from going in there and, I don’t know, burning down the entire room, I’m not sure there are many ways you can mess this up." And then Act 3 has it actually burning down, gah, drama. Haha I guess that's not foreshadowing but yeah there's a fair amount of symmetry going on, and in other parts of the fic as well, so I hope things have still stayed surprising!  
> \- Anyways ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT! Will it be a happy ending??! Oh lord who am I kidding at this point, of course it will  
> -THANKS AGAIN!


	15. Chapter 15

The thing about being on drugs is that anything instantly becomes possible. Reality twists itself and you shift and shake and slide into someone who shares the same skin as you, but isn’t you. This person gets to do the things you wouldn’t otherwise be thinking about. It’s not _you_ doing these things, it’s that other person, that other you. But you still get the benefit of everything that person is feeling while you’re standing – or more accurately – _floating_ outside of yourself.

 

That’s one of the reasons why having sex on crystal meth is almost as addictive as the meth itself.

 

Sex on crystal is just…well there’s a reason the two have the association. It’s mind blowing in a way that’s hard to believe until you’ve actually been there, riding the feeling forever, fucking for days, every sensation heightened, a thousand needles of pleasure digging into you all at once, sending your mind crackling and your vision snapping.

 

When Jesse was on meth he would spend entire weekends in a haze just having sex continuously, only breaking when they needed, well, more meth. It didn’t matter which anonymous person he ended up with. It could be anyone who was willing to smoke a bowl with Jesse and put their hands, mouths, their everything on him. He would sometimes look back and wonder at the fact that he hadn’t picked up anything during this period. He hadn’t been lying when he told Mr. White he was clean. But he knew how lucky he’d been to dodge that bullet.

 

 But the point was, having sex on crystal wasn’t even about him and the other person, whoever they happened to be. It was about flying around them, looking down at where their bodies lay, sweaty, jerking limbs intertwined, rutting against each other in a frenzy, and still getting the jolts of pleasure from a thousand miles up in the stratosphere.

 

Once you start having sex from a vantage point in the galaxies, it can be hard to come back down to anything else.

 

Jesse didn’t even know how much sex he’d had in this period. But he was willing to bet that in the past week alone, Mr. White had wrung more orgasms out of him than Jesse had had in his entire life.

 

It was unbelievable.

 

For one thing, Jesse didn’t even know _where_ the guy got his stamina. Sometimes Jesse felt like he was still getting his breath back when Mr. White was on him _again_ , just in case he didn’t take him apart enough the first time around. Or sometimes Jesse would be riding Mr. White, and look down at his face which was so spent that Jesse would think he’d killed him. But then ten minutes later he’d be in the shower and hear Mr. White come in, and feel his arms snaking around him from behind, while Mr. White started to lightly rub against him, sliding easily over Jesse’s wet skin.

 

And Jesse was supposed to be the more energetic one.

 

But what was even more unbelievable was that however many times they made love, Jesse could remember each and every single one. It was novel. Sex was no longer a kaleidoscope series of flashing images and colours with every trancelike sensation slipping through him and dissolving immediately into the ether. 

 

Jesse felt _everything_. Every push and pull of Mr. White’s body, every press of his hands against Jesse’s skin, leaving scorching imprints. The scrape of Mr. White’s beard rubbing the insides of Jesse’s thighs until the skin chafed. His teeth around Jesse’s lower lip biting just hard enough for Jesse to feel the sting. The way his fingers would dig into Jesse’s hips leaving a collection of bruises while he sucked Jesse absolutely _raw_ until Jesse was practically sobbing because it was too much and he was feeling so much it _hurt_ but he craved more of it, more of Mr. White, more of this clear-headed burn of skin on skin that took over every last one of Jesse’s senses. If sex on drugs was like flying, then this was drowning, and Jesse couldn’t stop gasping down exquisite breaths of Mr. White, suffocating himself, filling his lungs until they were stinging from everything Mr. White had to give him.

 

And Jesse was present for all of it. He remembered everything.

 

Like the time he’d taken Mr. White in so deep he was sure he was going to break from it, almost blacking out, positive that feeling this alive meant you were dying.

 

Or the time when Mr. White had decided he was going to make Jesse come by using his fingers alone. He’d grabbed Jesse’s hand when it tried to go to his dick for relief, pinning it to the bed declaring, “this’ll take as long as it has to.”

 

And then the time where Jesse had gotten some retribution by leaning over Mr. White on the bed while Walt desperately pumped his own cock. He was allowed to touch himself, but not allowed to touch Jesse. And Jesse, arms braced on the headboard, moving slowly over Walt but never making contact, lips ghosting over his face just out of reach, did not make it easy for him.

 

Or there was the time when Walt had been going down on Jesse and Jesse maneuvered himself to do the same to Walt. They’d been curled together, each sucking each other off, and when Jesse felt the pull of Mr. White’s mouth combined with Mr. White’s cock leaking drops of pre-come onto his tongue and sliding to the back of his throat, Jesse hadn’t been able to hold back and felt himself coming harder than he ever had in his life.

 

And also the time when after a particularly vigorous session of lovemaking, it was barely twenty minutes before Walt was rolling towards Jesse, thrusting against his hips again.

 

Jesse had pushed him off laughing, “I’m still sore, you freak.”

 

Walt had just leaned in to kiss Jesse’s neck where he murmured: “I’m not.”

 

Jesse had looked at him, eyebrows raised. Walt just grinned and slapped the container of lube into Jesse’s hand, pulling Jesse over on top of him.

 

And. And oh my _god_.

 

So yeah. To say they couldn’t get enough of each other was putting it mildly.

 

However, they were both adults despite the fact that they couldn’t stay off each other like teenagers who’d just discovered third base. And they did have their own responsibilities.

 

Walt eventually did leave the Pinkman residence, since he had his own family to see. He realized that although he’d called home, he hadn’t seen his son since the fire, and fought down a pang of guilt, even though he knew Junior had been fine. He’d hugged him extra hard though, as if to make up for not having been around.

 

Although…Walt wasn’t entirely sure how missed _he_ had been. He knew how much a boy needed his father and he vowed to not slip up again, even though the past week with Jesse had been exceptional in its…focus.

 

But he’d been surprised when he arrived home to see Ted was there with Skyler, both of them laughing at something in the kitchen. When Skyler had handed Holly to him to grab some cutlery it looked like the most natural exchange in the world.

 

Walt’s family was still _his_ family. And although it was disorienting to see how the unit had shifted and rearranged itself, it wasn’t entirely as wrong as Walt might have expected.  This might have been his house but…he didn’t belong in it anymore. At least not in the same way as before. He and Skyler were going to have to make that transition soon. They talked about him moving out at the end of the semester, and watching how they were moving on it was clear that he might have to. Walt was still involved. Of course he was, this was his _family_. But being involved didn’t mean that he was still necessarily _included_ , at least not in his old capacity.

 

It stung a bit. But if it was for his family then he’d do anything.

 

If Walt’s former life was evolving, Jesse’s had been razed to the ground. Literally.

 

It was a crisp November morning when Jesse was pulling into the parking lot at J.P. Wynne. He hadn’t been back since the fire. Walt had asked that morning if Jesse needed him to come along but Jesse shook his head. He kind of wanted to be alone for this.

 

The parking lot was deserted, since the school was closed until further notice. Of course the elementary school was gone, but high school classes were temporarily suspended as well, administration dealing with the clean up, insurance, health risks of any smoke damage, and the fact that two of their staff members were dead, one of them being the principal of the school that had burned down completely.

 

Things were still in a bureaucratic mess, which was why Walt was also able to have so much time off to spend with Jesse, most of it in bed. Jesse would be surprised if classes even started up again by the time they were supposed to go on winter break.

 

He walked over to the remains of the building, the place where he used to work.  It was barely recognizable, just the foundations left, shattered in the shape of a building that had once been a school.

 

He reached the debris that was still blocked off by tape. Casting a quick look around, Jesse ducked under it and headed towards the approximate area where his classroom had been.

 

Standing in the rubble, Jesse felt a heaviness on his heart. He’d been so deliriously _alive_ these past few weeks with Mr. White that he’d almost forgotten about everything that had brought them together.

 

Oh sure there’d be more teaching opportunities, and Jesse didn’t imagine he’d have too much trouble finding a new one. Especially not as a male elementary teacher, something which so many schools were desperate for. And as long as there were people there would be schools.

 

But…but this was _Jesse’s_ school. He’d gone here, he’d taught here, and he considered it his. “It’s my initials on the building, not yours, yo,” he’d once joked to Mr. White.

 

And standing in the middle of the wreckage of what had been his first classroom, Jesse couldn’t help biting back the kind of nostalgia that ached. This was his classroom. He’d grown up here, become someone he could be proud of here. He taught his students in this room, and did it well. He’d kissed Mr. White for the first time in this room. He’d fallen in love with Mr. White as he stood in the same spot he was now, watching Mr. White performing a magic trick for his kids, before he even knew Mr. White, before he even _liked_ him.

 

Something caught his eye, poking out of the classroom’s remains. He reached down to see what it was.

 

It was a pair of lab goggles, still intact. They’d come with the chemistry set for kids that Mr. White had given him for his class, way back when. Oh god the fights he’d needed to break up over who got to use it next.

 

Holding the goggles he remembered how shocked he’d been when Mr. White had presented him with the set. It was around when Jesse was realizing just how much time he’d been spending with Mr. White when he wasn’t working, getting used to the fact that apart from Jane, Mr. White was probably the best friend he had.

 

Mr. White had been showing him how to assemble the miniature lab while Jesse eagerly put on the goggles, getting them caught over his head. Mr. White had laughed and reached over to adjust them on Jesse’s face, sliding his fingers through Jesse’s hair to remove it from where it had been caught under the elastic band. Mr. White had then cleared his throat and gone back to focusing on the lab set while Jesse sat in silence, realizing that apart from a hand on his shoulder, it was the first time Mr. White had touched him.

 

Jesse’s smiled softly, remembering it now.

 

And he turned around and walked away, feet crunching over the wreckage, goggles swinging from his hand, his heart a little lighter.

 

 

***

 

Walt looked up from Jesse’s bed where he’d been lying on top of the covers reading the newspaper, to see Jesse walking in, his face somewhat brighter than Walt had been expecting. When Jesse had told him that morning in bed that he needed to go see the school, Walt knew it couldn’t have been an easy trip.

 

“So?” he asked. “You okay?”

 

Jesse just dropped a pair of goggles onto the mattress. Walt leaned forward to pick them up, smiling when he recognized them. Jesse bent down, giving him a slow kiss.

 

“I will be,” he said pulling away, and flopping down next to Mr. White on the bed.

 

“That’s good,” said Walt. When Jesse flipped open his laptop that had been on his nightstand Walt looked back at the newspaper he’d picked up on his way back from Skyler’s, where he’d been visiting that morning while Jesse was out. He continued to read it while Jesse checked his emails, both of them the picture of domesticity.

 

He looked up when he heard Jesse sigh. “What is it?”

 

Jesse turned his computer so Walt could see the screen. He hadn’t checked his own school mail yet but it was a mass email sent from Carmen, thanking everyone for their commitment to J.P. Wynne’s elementary school, and her regrets that it would not be reopened after winter break the following year.

 

“I guess it’s official,” Jesse said, biting his lip.

 

Walt looked at him sympathetically and reached out to hold his arm. “I’m so sorry, Jesse.”

 

“No it’s…it’s fine I guess,” said Jesse, but he looked a little wistful. “I mean I expected it to happen.”

 

Walt watched him, gently massaging Jesse’s arm while he waited for him to say more.

 

“It’s just,” Jesse continued. And then he shrugged. “I mean it’s just, apart from the meth lab underneath the building? That was a _really_ good school,” he joked weakly.

 

Walt laughed, even though it wasn’t exactly funny, but he knew where Jesse was coming from.

 

“What else does it say there?” he asked, nodding at the computer.

 

“Just the usual,” Jesse said, scanning the rest of the message. “Thanking people for their understanding of the situation, expressing condolences at the tragic loss of two upstanding figures in the school community – yeah okay there – and giving a breakdown of the reasons that it can’t reopen, mostly financial.”

 

Walt’s hand stilled where he’d been rubbing Jesse’s arm. “Wait go back to that part.”

 

Jesse read from the email. “Um okay, so it says ‘As you all know, much of what made J.P. Wynne Elementary possible was the generous contribution of the tragically late Gustavo Fring, whose investment in the education of today’s youth was second to none. Within the current economic reality of the board, financing this endeavor would not have been possible and we owe the memory of Gustavo Fring a great deal for making this project a reality, for however brief a time it stayed.” Jesse snorted. “Sure, you also owe him the pile of burnt wood in the middle of the yard but I guess we’re not supposed to tell you that part.” He looked up at Mr. White and was surprised to see him sitting there, face bent slightly in concentration. He hadn’t even heard the last thing Jesse said.

 

“Mr. White?”

 

Walt frowned. “Jesse,” he said slowly. He looked up at him. “Is the only thing getting in the way of rebuilding, the financial aspect?”

 

Jesse looked quickly through the email. “Um, I think so, why?”

 

Walt stared at him. “Jesse,” he said again. “I have money.”

 

Jesse raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah okay.”

 

“No really,” said Walt, more urgently. “I _have_ money.”

 

“Yo, Mr. White, I know you got some kind of allowance from Gus but this is a school we’re talking about, not a new car or something. Like an entire _school_. That needs to be built from scratch. You don’t have that much money,” he laughed shaking his head.

 

Walt sat in silence. Jesse looked up at him, forehead creasing. “How much?”

 

Walt told him.

 

“You are _shitting_ me,” burst out Jesse.

 

Walt just bit his lip, shaking his head.

 

Jesse let out a whistle. “And you still wanted out? God, you must like me a _lot_ ,” he smirked.

 

Walt rolled his eyes. “I didn’t _just_ stop for you, I did it for me, too.”

 

Jesse smiled softly. “Yeah I know.” He put his hand over Mr. White’s, which was still resting on his arm.

 

“But really,” said Walt, eyes getting wide. “It’s…I can’t believe it didn’t even occur to me. Jesse, it’s…what I have is more than enough for a new school, for _ten_ schools.”

 

Jesse shook his head. “Mr. White it’s…it’s really nice of you and all – “

 

“Nice of me,” snorted Walt. “Please it feels mandatory of me.”

 

“Oh for the love of god it wasn’t your fault, already,” said Jesse. “I can’t ask you to spend your money.”

 

“You’re _not_ asking me though,” said Walt earnestly. He threw his newspaper aside and reached over to close Jesse’s laptop. He looked at Jesse seriously. “Jesse, I’m _offering_. It’s your…it’s _our_ school. It wouldn’t be the same without you there.”

 

Jesse stared at him, heart getting faster. He almost didn’t want to believe it but it seemed like maybe…he really would get it back.

 

As though reading Jesse’s thoughts, Walt just smiled and nodded.

 

“Let me, Jesse.”

 

Jesse stared at him in awe. Was it even possible to love someone this much?

 

Jesse just swallowed around the lump that had appeared in his throat. He nodded, a rush of hope pouring out of his heart. He bent over to kiss Walt who cupped the side of his face, kissing him back.

 

Walt really did want to do this. It seemed so obvious a solution that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before. And not just for Jesse, but for the school itself.

 

Although anything that put that look in Jesse’s eyes was fine by Walt.

 

When he felt like he was composed enough, Jesse broke the kiss, resting his forehead on Walt’s.

 

“So how does it work then? Mr. White the chemistry teacher shows up with a duffel bag of cash and drops it on the desk. ‘Here I found this, build the school with it.’ Solid plan.”

 

Walt laughed. “I was thinking more in terms of some kind of donation from an ‘anonymous benefactor’. I mean we’d have to find a way of getting it to them, and also make sure they can legally accept it but –“

 

“ – but I know a guy who’s good with computers,” said Jesse.

 

“And I know a lawyer,” said Walt.

 

They grinned at each other and Walt leaned in to kiss Jesse again.

 

He pulled back after a few moments. “Oh wait, that number I mentioned, it might not be exactly that much.”

 

He looked at Jesse. “I mean it’s close, but just subtract the approximate price of…of our new house.”

 

Jesse’s eyes widened. “Our new what?”

 

Walt fidgeted on the bed. “Well you know…I mean I was only temporarily staying at my old house…you keep talking about how you want to move…I figured we might as well kill two birds with one stone?” He shifted to reach into his pocket where he dropped a pair of keys into Jesse’s hand. Jesse looked down at them in shock.

 

Walt started talking faster. “I mean I’ve barely left here, except to go get clothes, and you've come over the house so much anyways it’s not like we’re incapable of living together. And then this place opened up and I know you haven’t seen it but I think you’d like it and it’s near the school. And hey,” he laughed. “As long as I keep breaking all your furniture, getting you a new house really feels like the least I can do.” He broke off to look at Jesse, who was staring at him, stunned. “Oh god, I – totally overstepped, I’m so sorry. I just assumed – you know what forget it, it’s okay, I’m going to pretend this never happened – “

 

The rest of his sentence was cut off by Jesse’s mouth on his as he kissed Walt within an inch of his life.

 

Jesse broke off gasping. “Mr. White just shut _up_ , are you kidding me? Of _course_ I want to live with you.”

 

Walt felt a flood of relief and he reached up to catch Jesse who had launched forward again to kiss him over and over and over.

 

Suddenly Jesse started laughing where he was pressed against Walt’s mouth. “Sorry it’s just…I literally _just_ realized…we haven’t actually been on a date yet, have we?”

 

Walt burst out laughing. “Hey don’t blame me, I did ask you.”

 

“Which is more than you did when you _bought us a house_ ,” Jesse laughed again in disbelief, smacking him.

 

Walt caught Jesse’s hand and kissed his fingers. “It seemed like the thing to do,” he said, chuckling.

 

“Yeah okay,” said Jesse, rolling off the bed and standing up, pulling Walt with him.

 

“Whoa wait, where are we going?” asked Walt.

 

“Coffee,” laughed Jesse. “Before I move in with you I would at least like to say I’ve been on _one_ date with you, seeing as how the only places I’ve ever actually seen you are in a school, one of our houses, or in a bed.”

 

Walt raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry did you need anything else?”

 

Jesse laughed, tugging his arm. “Come on.”

 

Walt just reeled him back in so that Jesse was pressed flush against him. He slid an arm around his back, reaching up to brush his fingers over Jesse’s lips. Jesse’s breath quickened.

 

“Does it have to be right this second?” he asked, leaning in slowly. Jesse’s eyes widened as he arched involuntarily towards Walt.

 

“Well,” he swallowed as he felt Mr. White’s mouth brush over his once. “I mean…I guess not _right_ this second.”

 

Walt smiled against Jesse’s skin and he trailed his hand down Jesse’s chest, across his stomach, over his hips, where he began to unbutton his jeans. Jesse's pupils dilated and he bit his lip in anticipation.

 

Walt tugged Jesse forward by the waistband. “I mean we _could_ go now,” he said thoughtfully. “If you still wanted to, that is.”

 

“No no,” said Jesse, letting himself be guided towards the bed. “I’m sure we could wait an hour.”

 

“Mmm, make it two,” said Walt, tugging at the bottom of Jesse’s shirt and bringing it up and over his head.

 

Jesse burst out laughing. “ _Two_ , yeah okay, _wow_. I don’t believe you for a second.”

 

Walt just shrugged. “Okay,” he said, slowly sliding down the zipper of Jesse’s jeans, letting his hand linger there against the fabric.

 

Jesse swallowed. “Still don’t believe you,” he said somewhat huskily. “You’re going to have to prove that to me.”

 

Walt smirked and leaned towards him.

 

“And how would you like me to prove it to you?” he said in a low voice. He bent down to rub his chin against Jesse’s, scratching it slightly. He kissed the red skin. “Like this?”

 

Jesse’s breath hitched as he felt Mr. White’s face slide down incrementally.

 

“Like this?” Walt asked again, pressing a soft kiss to Jesse’s neck. Jesse shivered.

 

Walt reached around him to lightly drag his fingers across the bare skin of Jesse’s lower back. He placed his mouth against the skin of Jesse’s jaw and sucked it gently, murmuring, “Like this?”

 

Jesse’s eyes finally fluttered closed and he turned his head, catching Mr. White’s lips in a kiss.

 

Walt laughed softly and tipped Jesse onto the bed, following close behind.

 

It seemed amazing to Walt that a year ago he was told his time was up.

 

Leaning down over Jesse it felt like it was just starting.

 

 

***

 

One or two hours later, two figures walked out of the house. They were laughing and gesturing widely at each other.

 

They were talking in raised voices and almost seemed like they were fighting, except for the fact that they were both grinning ear to ear. And when they reached for each other’s hands at the same time, not even aware they were doing it, it pushed aside all doubt.

 

They made their way down the street, still arguing, voices carrying across the breeze. One was waving his free hand insistently, saying something about how it was standard to round up. The other just grinned and shook his head, laughing at the other’s noises of protest.

 

It was something they’d probably never stop arguing about, but Walt didn’t mind at all.

 

Because in the end, what was one hour or two?

 

Walter White had the rest of his life.

 

 

 

  **The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've said it a million times and I'm going to say it again: thank you SO much for reading.
> 
> I've never even attempted anything this length before, I had no idea if anyone would even like the idea haha, so the fact anyone wanted to read this at all, let alone be such an enthusiastic audience with so many encouraging things to say is so mind blowing, I can't even tell you!
> 
> Thank you guys again, can't believe it's over haha. I know I've honestly had so much fun with this story so I really hope you did too!:)


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